


Breaking A Cycle

by Julian_Albert



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9786824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julian_Albert/pseuds/Julian_Albert
Summary: Barry finally has the upper hand when it's Julian that turns up to work late, but a bit of teasing reveals more than he intended, and he is left to act on the shock that Julian is in an abusive relationship--one that has evidently turned violent. He knows immediately that he has to do something, before things get worse.





	1. The Warning Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to point out any errors or grievances in the comments. Also, this fic will not bash any characters within in the series, and I haven't decoded on a length yet, but I know what I plan for this story. If I'm slow to update drop me a comment and tell me to hurry up, or tell me below when you prefer for me to post; every two days, every week, etc. IN this fic, Julian has not found out yet that Barry is the Flash, and Eddie is still alive. Please leave a comment so I know people are at least interested. 
> 
> X Cheers!

 

Barry walked quickly through the precinct and up the stairs, feeling a slight burn in his legs as he made it to the top, a coffee balanced in each hand, steam rising through the pinhole opening on the plastic lid. He didn't need to see the steam to know they were still warm; the styrofoam cups were beaded with condensation and he could feel the sticky heat through his thin gloves. He couldn't help smiling to himself; the first coffee had been free because the barista had accidentally added low fat milk, and had to make him a new one. Barry had taken the botched one as well when she offered it to him, on the off chance that if he could convince Julian that he was late because he had wanted to buy him coffee, maybe he wouldn't be so snippety.

It was a wasted thought, however, as he awkwardly maneuvered his elbow to catch and turn the door handle and step into their office. He nudged the door completely open with his foot but frowned as he took in the space around him. The only light coming into their lab was from the windows, and the early morning sunlight streaming through. Barry thought, for a half second, that maybe he had missed forgotten about daylight savings, and was actually an hour early, but it was the middle of December, and the idea dispersed like the steam wafting from the coffee cups as he carefully found a place for them between the scattered paperwork on his desk. He slid his bag off his shoulder and into his chair, and brought his wrist up to check his watch as he flicked on the lights. They didn't help much, dull and yellow as they were, but he could read clearly that it was 8:23 am and that he, and Julian, apparently, were both very late to work.

A small, secret smirk moved on his face as he thought of how to bring it up when Julian showed up. He could play it off and pretend not to notice, as would be the decent thing to do...but he lived a life of doing the decent thing, and Julian would never think to do the same for him. No, he was going to point it out, and with great satisfaction, and he would never endure any of Julians rants about tardiness again when he had this incident in his back pocket. Today must be Barry Allen's lucky day, and he set to work with much more enthusiasm than he could remember having for work in weeks.

Julian didn't come in much after he started, ducking so quickly and silently through the door that Barry almost didn't see him until he sat in his chair and swiveled it towards his computer screen, which whirred to life as he tapped a button on the monitor, his entire desktop going blue from the reflected light. He didn't acknowledge Barry, and kept his face turned down and away from his coworker, which meant he was clearly hoping that Barry would ignore his half hour tardiness. Barry stayed quiet for two minutes, watching the harsh line of Julians shoulders beginning to relax before he spoke up, not bothering to disguise how smug he was, with a drawling, "You know, it's extremely unprofessional to show up to work fourty five minutes late."  
  
He knew it hadn't really been that long, but his partner never seemed to mind exaggerating, so he didn't feel too guilty for using the same tactic. He could have reported it to Singh, just like Julian had been threatening to do to him for the past week, but felt that this plan would have probably moved them firmly out of comfortable antagonism, and Julian hadn't actually taken that step yet himself, so Barry would contain himself. Julian was content with ignoring him, though, and only the red tinge at the tips of his ears gave away that he had heard Barry at all, which only encouraged him.

He knew he was being childish; that their relationship was never going to improve if they were constantly trying to provoke one another, but he couldn't help himself. Julian was never late to work, and he intended to take full advantage of this limited window of opportunity to turn the tables on the man. He needn't know that Barry himself had only arrived five minutes before him. Barry smirked a while longer, letting the calm settle again, before he started slowly, intending to draw out the interaction, "You know, I even brought you coffee. I showed up early, too, to prove I was going to really start working on my professionalism...but that's clearly not something that you're concerned with anymore, is it?"

Barry picked up the spare coffee he had gotten, and pushed himself out of his chair to walk it slowly to Julians desk, setting it deliberately on Julians CCPD coaster, away from his paperwork, and continued languidly, "I went through all the trouble to be considerate, to really show you that I'm trying, and you want to have a lie-in. Well, I hope your coffee tastes like guilt and regret, because it will take at least that for me to forget how inconsiderate your behavior was this morning."

Somewhere along the line he had gone from trying to annoy Julian to being playful, if only because he was still looking away from him, even when he turned his chair and slowly examined the cup and its contents. It was unnerving, talking to the top of the mans head, and Barry almost wishes he had just rolled over in his chair with the drink so at least their faces would be level. He felt oddly powerful standing over his partner, and from his new vantage height he recognized just how slight the man in front of him was. Bony shoulders, thin neck, slender waistline. He didn't get to finish his examination, because, finally, Julian acknowledged him with a quiet clearing of his throat.  
"Bluff. Calling it." He said, without looking up, and turning around, coffee still in his hands, to look at his computer screen, which had now loaded completely and was blinking as he waited for a file from another department to download properly.

Barry startled, and asked, feeling his face heat with the idea of being caught, "Excuse me?"

When he answered he did so with a lazy sort of ease that Barry always envied, so sure and soft that he almost sounded seductive; "If you'd showed up early this cup wouldn't still be steaming, would it, Allen? You realize we work for a police department? I'm being payed to notice things like this, and you're a bad liar. You were late again, and it's because you went to Jitters for coffee--whether or not you bought one for me as well is besides the point. Your priority was to get coffee, not to show up on time, and certainly not to extend any sort of kindness to me. It was probably one they would have thrown out, judging by the taste. Is this low-fat milk?"

Barry, refusing to be cowed and trying to maintain the upper hand without Julian noticing the flush to his cheeks at being caught, "You could just say thank you, you know. I could have used the microwave to keep the drink warm for you, because I'm considerate, and you're just being ungrateful. Maybe next time I won't bring you anything."

"No, please don't; your taste in drinks is atrocious. Also, we haven't had a microwave in this office in weeks, so, no, you couldn't have used one to keep the spare drink warm. Sit down, preferably at your own desk, and leave me to do my job in peace. I barely tolerate you as it is, and the lying doesn't breed any affection, either."

"A small fib." Barry corrected, moving back to his desk feeling chastised. He didn't know how Julian managed to flip the tables on the situation, and he was still later than Barry, but he still did it effortlessly. He added solemnly, attempting to soothe the embarrassment of being caught in his tall tale, "It's not the same thing as a lie."

Julian didn't answer him, his fingers already clacking over computer keys as Barry grumbled to himself about the difference between the two concepts. There WAS a difference, he firmly believed that...sort of. For example; he didn't lie to himself when he tried to reason that he wasn't stung when Julian dropped his coffee into the waste basket five minutes later with a grimace; he just fibbed. Because he really didn't care if Julian appreciated his drink or not, but it was annoying that he was so eager to show Barry that his attempts were utterly worthless. He took all but a few seconds to demand bitterly across the silent office--besides the tacking of computer keys--what Julians priorities had been, since he clearly hadn't been on time either.

There was a noticeable stiffening to Julians posture, and a new tightness in his voice when he answered slowly, his breath catching for a half moment, "Traffic."

"Traffic? Traffic caused you to be a half hour late to work? You live less than a block away. You realize we work for a police department? I'm being payed to notice things like this, and you're a bad liar." Barry said with the most exaggerated version of a British accent he could manage, and added purposefully, smug that he could throw Julians words back in his face, especially with his closing line, "I barely tolerate you as it is, and the lying doesn't breed any affection, either."

If he expected a haughty reply, he didn't get one. Julian was silent for a long moment, and finally, when he did speak, his voice had softened and he said, still without facing Barry, his chin tilted downwards as if in shame, "I know. I'm sorry, I won't let it happen again. Can we just drop it and do our work? I'll pay you back for the coffee."

Barry almost agreed, simply because he was stunned, but there was something foreign in the mans voice; something that told him there was something very wrong that he wasn't seeing, and he had a feeling if he could just get Julian to look him in the eye he would be able to read what it was. He just had to make him look up.

It took minutes to notice Julian was intentionally keeping his face down, and then It took hours of attempts to make him look up before, reluctantly, Barry resolved he would have to shock him into doing it. So, he swallowed his gut instinct for self-preservation, and stood shakily from his desk, hoping that he was right in what he had noticed, and made a show of asking Julian for help on a case before 'accidentally' upending his coffee so that the dredges of his drink spread rapidly across Julians desk, prompting him to bolt into action, moving paperwork as fast as humanly possible--Barry could have mistaken him for a speedster, how fast he managed to move all of his work out of harms way. He was so anxious that Barry almost forgot about his plan and had the urge to apologize, but then he saw what Julian had been trying to hide.

The left corner of his mouth had a short cut in the center of a purple bruise, scabbed over but still obviously fresh, and his left eye was swollen and yellow around the edges where another bruise was beginning to form, and the fear in both made Barry's chest burn in a way he hadn't felt since his father died. Someone had hurt Julian, and he was too scared--and perhaps ashamed, if he read the devastated look on his face properly--to tell anyone. The way he was looking at Barry, it was almost as if he expected another punch out of him, but Barry hadn't even liked the idea of punching Julian in theory, and liked it much less now that he was seeing the results of it in person.

"Julian--"

"I'm fine." He snapped quickly, his cheeks turning pink as he turned sharply away again, pulling a wad of napkins out of his desk drawer and using them to angrily mop up the mess that Barry's coffee had created, clearly trying to distract himself to think of some excuse for his injuries. Barry's heart clenched; no wonder he was being so crotchety all morning.

"If it's someone we know, you can tell me. I'll tell Captain Singh and he'll--"

"No!" Julian gasped, standing abruptly, blue eyes wide and terrified, "It was a bar fight, the last thing I need is for my boss of all people to know about it! Don't say a word--not to anyone, understood? I'll stop calling out your lateness, your complete disregard for the rules--I will drink whatever shitty coffees you put on my desk, Allen, if it will keep your fat mouth shut about this."

Barry didn't believe him. He was right; they were being paid to notice things, and Barry had noticed another lie in Julians story. His hands were fine; no split knuckles, no bruises, no scrapes. If hit had really been in a fight, Barry expected there would be defensive wounds to his hands, at least, but they were unmarked, which meant someone had beaten him up, and he was trying to protect their identity by lying about it.

Barry didn't pride himself on being incredibly observant, but lately he noticed everything about Julian Albert; from the way his hair came to a soft curl, to how he tried to be a vegetarian for a week without telling anyone and ultimately failed his attempt (Barry had spent that entire week bringing Big Belly Burgers in for lunch just to get on his nerves and had thoroughly enjoyed watching him suffer over it while it had lasted), to how he chewed his lip when he was close to solving a case, to when he would tense his shoulders after having another call forwarded to voicemail by his parents. Barry never brought moments like those up when he noticed them; they were private and far too personal for him to have seen at all, but he couldn't ignore this; he knew Julian well, and being a part of the CCPD had taught him how to see other things too. Things like abuse. And now he couldn't stop seeing it when he looked at Julian, who was still staring at him, waiting for his response.

The trouble was; Barry didn't know what he was supposed to say. He could see what he hadn't before; how Julian always talked about cutting his hair, but got startled by the suggestion he follow through with it; how he had been looking at his reflection more often in the week he tried to be a vegetarian, glancing at himself in the reflection of the floor and in his computer screen in a way that now didn't seem so casual, not when paired it with the way Julian had suddenly been dropping weight; how he had a scar on his mouth that was thinner than a strand of hair that he worried over with his tongue absently; how he only called his parents when he felt small and desperate--and Barry had never read any of that before, but he did now; now that he knew, Now that Julian was suddenly easier to read than a book. Julian Albert, his work partner, his almost-maybe-kind-of crush, was in an abusive relationship with someone, and he was too scared to ask for help--no, looking at him again there was more than fear; maybe just he didn't think he deserved it.

Barry knew better, though, and resolved immediately that he would rescue Julian Albert, whether he knew he deserved to be saved or not.

 

 


	2. A Plan Of Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian doesn't want to admit that there is a problem, and Barry begins to make a plan to help him solve it anyways.

 

"You have to tell someone." Barry said, breaking the tense silence as they stared at one another, chests heaving from the crushing weight of the revelation that Julian was trapped in an abusive relationship.

"There's nothing to tell anyone." Julian whispered back, his voice raw and shaking, "I'm fine. Nothing is going on, you're seeing abuse where it doesn't exist. Carter loves me, he wouldn't ever hurt me on purpose."

So Julian was dating a man. Barry had imagined that he had a woman at home, angry and quick to violence. It didn't happen often, but Barry knew from being involved with the police force for so long that females were just as capable of abuse as men. That wasn't the point, though, and he shook himself to pull thoughts of Julian and a faceless man falling into bed together from his mind. He shouldn't be thinking that way in the given situation; he shouldn't feel jealous, not of a man that would rather hit his partner than take care of him. He met Julians pale eyes again, and said, meaningfully, "If he hit you once, he'll do it again. It--"

"Maybe it's mutual." Julian spat, something hardening in his face, the emotion in his eyes fracturing and morphing into something different; something cold and deliberate. "Maybe I hit him back."

"You didn't." Barry said softly, and looked down at Julians hands again, which were soft and unmarked. He hadn't noticed when he grabbed the mans hands in his, and released them quickly, an embarrassed warmth rising in his cheeks.

"I don't care what you think happened, Allen. You don't know me, and you certainly don't know Carter. You can say what you want, if you think you're so smart. Maybe we just like it rough, did you think about that? I don't owe you any explanation for what goes on in my private life, so kindly keep your nose out of it."

His tone was venomous and dark, and he didn't say another word about the situation, even when Barry tried to blackmail him into it by threatening to tell Singh. The only thing he did was shoot Barry a nasty sneer, hissing, "Go ahead. I'll tell him I have a kinky sex life and that you won't stop invading my privacy. Now, I'm going to lunch, and when I get back we aren't going to talk about this again, because it's private, it's not abuse, and it's not your business."

Barry stayed at his desk. He didn't feel like having lunch. He might be sick if he thought about the bruises on Julians face one more time, and he couldn't understand for the life of him why Julian could justify defending the man that had hurt him.

*********

Julian walked as fast as he could manage without drawing suspicion and made a beeline out the front doors of the precinct and into the alley formed between his work an d the building next door, finally letting himself begin to feel panic. His eyes burned, one from the bruise that he knew was blooming steadily, and both from holding in terrified tears. Carter had hit him before; for forgetting to fetch the mail, for talking too long with the girl in the apartment next door, or for leaving dishes in the sink for too long, but he had never let it get as bad as it had gotten last night.

Julians cat, Mulligan, had been frightened by a lamp that had fallen off the table by the couch and shattered, and hidden beneath their bed. Julian hadn't been able to reach her, and had implored Carter to try, despite the mans deep hatred for the animal. Already angry about the lamp, Carter had gotten pissed when he came away with a hissing, angry cat, and four thin lines over the back of his hand where he had been scratched.

Julian knew what was about to happen before it did, and he jolted to his feet as Carter turned his back on him, and marched the yowling cat to the front door of their apartment, talking so fast and so angrily that spit was flying from his mouth, "I told you I didn't want you to bring a damn pet into this house! This is the last straw, I'm in control of this household, not your damn stupid cat! She lived on the streets half her life, she can learn to live in them again!"

"NO! Carter, stop, she won't do it again! She was scared, she couldn't help it! Cater, you're hurting her!"

"What did I tell you!? What did I say when you brought her here?! I told you if she scratched me she was leaving!"

They had fostered the cat for half a year, and Mulligan had never so much as flexed her claws in a malicious manner after the first week of adjusting to their odd little family. Julian was certain it was a one-time thing. It was fear kicking her to act out defensively. He knew what that was; what it felt like. Watching his cat thrown through the door and into the hallway, he felt tears burn in his eyes, and he desperately pushed past Carter to gather her back into his arms, but was yanked back in by the back of his shirt, the collar going so tight against his throat that he lost his breath for half a minute as he was thrown to the floor and the door was slammed shut. Carter blocked his exit with broad shoulders and a curled fist. He was seething, Julian couldn't stop himself from crying, and Mulligan was still in the hall yowling to be let inside.

"You think you can defy me like that? After I move countries for you, for your job, for your happiness? I left my friends behind, and for what? A soppy, skinny brat who doesn't know how good he has it--doesn't see how lenient I am with him. You're ungrateful, thats the problem with you. All prissy, rich British boys are. You didn't have anyone that wanted you; it was easy for you to leave, to be selfish, but every move I've made since I met you has been for your benefit, and you can't even respect me. That cat was tearing us apart; always wanting your attention, always knocking the clock off my bedside table."

He worked himself into another rage, and Julian was left with a smattering of bruises by the time he was carried to bed, too weak to move to the door and fetch his cat, who he hadn't heard meowing for a long time. He fell asleep with a heavy weight in his chest, and heavier arms around his waist, locked around him like a vice as a soft voice whispered into his ear, "I'm sorry, baby, you know I didn't mean that. I never mean to hurt you, I'll learn to reign in my temper, it's just that I lose control with you sometimes, You have to learn to be better; not to make me so angry, and I won't hit you. We have to work together to fix this, you know? I do love you, Julian. I'll always love you, and I would never hurt you."

The worst part of it all was that, even as he was bent over in an alley, breathing hard and with sore ribs, he wanted to believe him. he wanted Carter to get better, to keep his promise and to love him the way he used to, when they first met six years ago. It was his fault too, after all, wasn't it? He was constantly provoking him. Maybe Julian just didn't know how to be a good boyfriend. He shouldn't have pushed Carter to get to his cat; he shouldn't have prioritized his pet over his boyfriend...shouldn't have been selfish.

He jerked upright at the wail of a siren to his right, and saw three officers rushing from the precinct and ducking into squad cars. There was a meta setting fire to a childrens hospital, he discovered, when he hurried back into the building and took in everyone buzzing around him. He felt guilty for being glad for the distraction, if only because he could retain his sanity if he was working on something, but he still helped interview the dozen doctors and witnesses that described the escaped metahuman. Luckily, nobody had died. A twelve year old girl had been severely burned, but she survived, and was lucky for it. She had been stepping out of the elevator with her parents when an explosion shook the hospital and the entire thing had crashed down to the first floor. She grabbed a handrail, and the flash had run in and rescued her before the elevator had even touched the ground. Her parents were so grateful Julian thought they could burst. They had been delivering flowers to the doctor that had treated their son for cancer, thanking him for making the small boy comfortable before he passed the week before. Julian could imagine their pain, and felt a prickle of something achingly familiar in his heart that he tried to ignore when his sisters face flickered in the back of his mind.

Barry was too distracted to remember their earlier confrontation when they were back in their office, and he was apparently deep in thought as he stared sightlessly at his computer screen. Julian didn't say anything to him, and instead used his partners distraction to look through his cell phone to find a clear picture of his cat for the missing posters Carter had consented to letting him make when Mulligan had left the apartment building before morning. It was his way of apologizing; letting Julian try to get his cat back. He was almost ashamed that it worked.

  
********

Barrys thigh only burned for half an hour after he rescued the dozen people trapped in the hospital. He had gotten everyone out alive before the fire had been put out, and though he didn't manage to even glimpse the meta that had set the place ablaze, he did develop a plan for what to do about Julian, and that almost felt more important. Julian didn't want Barry's help, but maybe he would take it from someone else. Someone like the Flash.

He thought over how to logically get Julian to trust him as soon as he went back to the office, and felt lucky that Julian was distracted by his phone or he likely would have been chastised for his inattention to their jobs. Well, they both had reasons to be distracted, and Barry was counting down the hours until work concluded, and the Flash could get Julian alone.


	3. A Flashy meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really short but I'm sill thirsty for comments so pretty please leave a review?

 

  
Julian was almost to his front door when he was nearly bowled over by a sudden gust of wind, which was apparently caused by none other than The Flash himself, who was blocking his exit with a heaving chest and desperate, flickering eyes. For a moment, he thought he had done something wrong; that the Flash was there to arrest him, and he reached instinctively for his gun before he realized he was being ridiculous. The Flash had saved him twice already, he was probably looking to collect a favor in repayment, and knew Julian was a part of the CSI. He forced his hands to relax, and tried to remember how to stand casually as the man in the scarlet suit looked him over, his face a blur with how fast it was vibrating. Julian couldn't tell what he was thinking, and the idea of being given the once over by a near stranger made him feel incredibly small and unbalanced. He could only imagine what his boyfriend would say. The thought crept into his head unbidden, and he barely repressed the shiver that wanted to run up his spine as his eyes automatically flickered to his apartment window. Carter wasn't anywhere to be seen, and his stomach unknotted, if only slightly, at the fact that they weren't being watched.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when the warbling, low voice of the flash cut through the silence and asked him, "Julian Albert?"

"Yes," He said, in a voice that wasn't his own. It sounded somehow very tight and panicked, and he tried to amend it by continuing quickly, "That's me, yes."

He had a feeling that the Flash already knew that, considering he had run all the way to find him, but he didn't say that. The Flash was silent a moment longer before declaring slowly, "I talked to one of your friends. They think you need my help."

His heart skipped a beat, and he tried to feign ignorance when he asked, "Your help? With what?"

The Flash didn't buy it, and he said sternly, "Your boyfriend. He's been hurting you, hasn't he? Your friend--"

Julian bristled as it hit him; Allen hadn't bothered him about his bruises after the fire because he had gone behind his back to tattle to the Flash about it. He couldn't tell if he should be embarrassed or furious, and settled on a mix of the two when he spat venomously, "Barry Allen is not my friend. Far from it, actually and whatever he told you is a lie. My boyfriend didn't do this," he gestured sharply towards his face, and the yellow bruising that marked it plainly in the low sunlight, "I fell down the stairs this morning and I lied to Allen about it because I don't want him to think I'm clumsy. That's it; that's all there is to it."

"Really? You'd rather tell Allen your face is bruised because of rough sex than tell him you tripped on the stairs? That doesn't really sound honest, if you want my opinion."

Julian flushed and hoped it didn't show. He forgot he had told Allen that, but he didn't think he would go and repeat it to anyone. In the back of his mind he was hoping the rumor didn't spread anywhere--he really didn't want his boss to know. The Flash must have taken his silence as admission to the lie, and said, his distorted voice softening, "Barry only wants to help--and so do I. If you're trapped in a relationship with this guy--Cooper or whatever--"

"Carter." Julian snarled automatically.

"Doesn't matter. The point is, if somebody is hurting you, then we want to help you find somewhere safe to stay."

"Oh really? And where do you expect me to go? You want me to crash on Allen's couch? I'm not sinking that low. I don't need his help, and I certainly don't need yours."

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Julian. It's okay to admit, you just need to--"

"Okay, but I'm not everyone. I'm a respected CSI metahuman specialist with a loving boyfriend and a gun on my hip. If I need to protect myself from someone, I know how to do it. I don't need some jumped-up meta in spandex running to my house to accost me about things that aren't happening. I told you I fell down the stairs, leave it at that and go away before--"

"Before what?" The Flash snapped, and Julian saw his face just long enough to see something angry flicker in green eyes before it blurred again, "Before your boyfriend sees you talking to me and decides to add more bruises to your face? If I recall, staircases don't leave finger marks like the ones on the side of your neck."

It was vicious and sharp, and so unexpected that Julian felt it as though it had ripped something deep in his chest. He could feel tears in his eyes before he could properly process the words, and stepped back instinctively, immediately on the defense when the Flash's face stilled and he said meaningfully, his voice normal and strangely familiar, "Julian, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that, that was--"

He blinked the tears back before they could fall, surprised at himself for feeling the remark so deeply, and willed the ache in his chest to die down to a dull throb. He didn't get the chance to reply, as Carter had just appeared on the doorstep, swinging the door open and frowning in surprise at what he saw. Julian saw the Flash tense, and his own spine straightened automatically as Carter asked slowly, amber eyes lighting with suspicion, "Did he come home with you?"

"No, he, uh, he's here to...help....me?" Julian was tempted to shout and just say he had been followed home; it would get rid of the Flash and his boyfriend wouldn't be so angry about seeing him with another man, but his pride kept him from doing so. Plus, he owed the Flash for saving him, and it felt like bad form to make him out as a villain in front of others as repayment.

He was at a loss to what to tell Carter the Flash was there to help with, exactly, but it seemed he didn't need to think up an excuse, because Carters eyes lit up and a smile formed on his face as he filled in the blanks, saying confidently, "Oh, you got The Flash enlisted to help you find our cat? We'll cover more ground that way, I suppose. Good thinking; you're brilliant, Jules, you truly are."

His cat. He felt his chest squeeze again, mostly with guilt for forgetting that poor Mulligan was missing, and turned towards the Flash expectantly as Carter laughingly told him, "It's my fault, really. That cat is always wanting to explore, so I thought I'd leave her outside for the night to look around the neighborhood. I was sure she would come back. I should have listened to Julian, though; he told me she wouldn't stay by the house till morning. I bet she isn't far, though."

Julian had never realized what a good liar Carter was, and it seemed even the Flash wanted to believe him. His face was normal now, no longer blurred and hard to catch, and there was something so recognizable in his visible features that it almost burned. He he looked hesitant, as if a part of him believed the man in front of them. If Julian didn't know better, he would have too, and he was suddenly struck with the fact that he didn't want the Flash to believe him, which was odd, since he had been trying to convince people all morning that his boyfriend was a good man.

"I, uh, I'll take the South end of town with Julian, and you can go North. Then we'll switch. With clear reluctance, Carter nodded when The Flash added, "Julian knows what the cat looks like, so he'll be able to point it out for me if he sees it.

 

*********

 

 

It was a terrible idea, to take Julian to look for his cat. Barry couldn't get him to say another word about his boyfriend, and he was starting to doubt his own theory about abuse when he saw how pleasant Carter seemed. It didn't seem right for someone to look so normal but act so violently in their private life. Maybe he was wrong, after all, he wasn't like any of the villains Barry had ever some across.

If anything, it was a bad plan because they didn't find the cat anywhere. There wasn't any trace of it, and Julian sat on his front steps looking miserable as they waited for Carter to return from his search across the city. Barry was almost ready to dismiss the idea of abuse entirely before he remembered the reaction Julian had had to his waspish comment earlier. He hadn't meant to say it, but the look on the brits face had been proof enough in that half moment that something serious was going on, so he tried again, this time more carefully, guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach like a rock when he remembered his harsh words, "If you tell someone whats going on, I can find a way to help you get out of the relationship. You could--"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Julian huffed, exasperated and glaring for a moment before he softened and said slowly, "I'll make you a deal; find my cat, and get Allen to back off, and maybe we can talk."

Barry couldn't believe the man was prioritizing a cat over his own safety, but he was to relieved to have made any progress at all to argue it, agreeing immediately and shaking his hand with more force than he intended to. He would find Julians cat, and he would get to the bottom of his rocky relationship. It almost sounded too easy.

 

 


	4. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to find Mulligan, and Carter reveals his true nature when BArry gets a bit too friendly with Julian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I'm dying of thirst.

It could be said that Barry had gotten ahead of himself in his eagerness to find the cat. He searched through the city until well after dark, and now, slumped at his desk, he was fighting not to nod off. It didn't last long, however, as he was jolted awake by Eddie Thawne knocking against his desk. The sound of knuckles against wood echoed in his head for a moment before he peered groggily up at the officers grim face. 

"I take it you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" Barry asked, stretching in his seat as Eddie eyed him nervously. 

"Julians cat went missing a few nights ago." 

Barry tried to act surprised, and said, "Oh, no, uh, I hadn't heard. That's...that's a bummer."

"Look, I know it sounds really trivial and ridiculous, but he's kinda bummed about it. I just wanted to give you a heads up that he's a bit testy, and tell you that it would mean a lot if you would help us look today during lunch."

"Julian, testy? That doesn't sound like him at all. Usually he's nothing short of pleasant." Barry snorted sarcastically , and Eddie's lips twitched into a smile, though he still rolled his eyes. 

"Alright, so maybe he's always short with you, but he's not like that to everyone. I just thought it would be a nice way for you guys to start getting along if you helped us look for his cat during our lunch break." 

"I..."

"I don't need his help." Julian chimed from the doorway, cold and sharp, and he glared pointedly in Barrys direction before moving to his desk to drop a large stack of papers on top of it. 

They landed with a loud 'thwap', and Barry sneered spitefully back at him, "I hope you get a paper cut from those." 

Eddie snorted, and appealed to Julian with an encouraging smile, "Come on, one more set of eyes will hardly hurt anything. Just let him look with us. He won't have to be in our group, he can pair off with Davis and Joe?"

Julian studied him a moment longer, with narrowed eyes, then seemed to consider him. It took a moment, but, finally, his eyes flicked off of Barry and onto his desktop, and he mumbled in defeat, "You don't even know if he wants to help."

"Yeah, maybe I don't want to. Why would I want to spend my lunch break looking for a dumb cat?" Barry asked, purely to rile his partner up. Eddie, for his part, didn't look surprised. Julian did, though. 

"Shut up! She's not a dumb cat!" He cried, far too offended for Barry not to laugh at. That is, until he continued, "I found her when I was on the bridge, she's the only reason I didn't--"

He cut himself off abruptly, looking startled at himself, and Barry looked at Eddie, wondering if he knew how the sentence would have ended, but he seemed just as lost. Barry could tell, from the way he had stopped himself to the pained look in his eyes, that it didn't have a pleasant end, and he nearly sighed in relief when Eddie asked slowly, "Julian? What were you--she's the reason you didn't...what?"

Julian had strange shine to his eyes, and Barry tried to ignore the way his hands shook, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of them. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears and then Julian whispered, his voice wavering and hollow, "I--nothing, it was stupid. If you don't want to come, fine, I don't need you anyways. I'll find her myself."

His heart fell into his gut and sat heavy against his naval. He hadn't meant to hurt him, but it seemed he still had somehow, so he bit his pride back and tried to apologize quickly, "Julian, I didn't--"

"You know, I think I'll get ahead on searching, and just start now. Singh won't mind, just tell him I went to the library to get a book for a case." Julian said quickly, blinking away whatever it was Barry had thought he spotted in his eyes, and he was out the door before anyone could stop him. 

"Are we actually going to let him go out alone when he's like this?" Barry asked, feeling one of them had to say something. 

"Of course not. Grab your coat, let's find him--and you had better apologize!"

Barry felt his face heat, and he said defensively, "How was I supposed to know--"

"I told you to take it easy on him! Come on, he walks fast, he could be long gone by now!"

"I--alright, I'm coming!" Barry shouted after him, barely snagging his jacket off the back of his chair as he rushed after Eddie. They made it to the front doors of the precinct before they were intercepted by Joe, who was just walking in with Captain Singh, both of their heads bent close to talk over a case. They stopped when they saw Barry and Eddie. 

"Are you two headed out? I thought you just got here?" Joe asked, frowning, and Barry tried not to make direct eye contact with Singh as he fumbled for an excuse. 

"Alright, here's the thing," Eddie sighed, when Barry came up empty, "Julian Albert lost his cat and he's kind of a mess about it, so we were going to take a car out and see if we could track him down, or at least help him look."

Singh's face twisted into something puzzled and uncertain, but Joe beat him to the punch to ask skeptically, "So you thought you would just leave in the middle of the day without telling anyone what--"

"Well, we're telling you, aren't we?" Barry added helpfully, though Eddie elbowed him in the ribs to try and shut him up. 

Joe snorted, and glanced towards the ceiling (as he often did to Barry when he was a kid, telling him it meant he was 'praying for the strencgth' to deal with him) as he answered, "That's not the point, you can't just--"

"You're saying that you two are going to go help Albert find his cat because you're worried about him?" Singh interjected, and Barry could hear how skeptical he was in his tone alone. "Even you, Allen?"

"Err...yes?" 

"Alright, but this can't happen again, and I'm only allowing it because I'm relieved you two aren't actively trying to kill each other anymore--and this had better do something to patch up your working relationship. Joe, you get on it with them, I'm not foolish enough to trust these two out on the streets by themselves."

"Well...alright, then." Joe said, though Singh was too far off to hear him. He stood for a minute, puzzling over what had just happened, then shook his head, evidently thinking better of trying to work out their captains logic, and dug his keys out of his pocket, telling the receptionist over his shoulder, "We'll be back after lunch, I'm taking squad car 29."

She barely looked up from her newspaper, and waved him off with a lazy flick of her wrist, gum popping loudly against the quiet of the room that was left behind. Joe led them out, and Barry looked up and down the sidewalk quickly for any sign of Julian, but was unsurprised when the street remained empty. He climbed into the back of the squad car reluctantly, wishing he could just use his speed to find his partner, but instead found himself thinking miserably as they rolled over potholes that the stupid cat wasn't worth half the effort they were putting into finding it. 

 

**********

 

They spent two hours on the East end of town without any sign of him, and, then another with Barry dozing off in the back seat while Joe and Eddie looked. He didn't mean to nod off, it was just that he was sick to the back of his teeth of talking about cats, and he hadn't gotten more than a blinks worth of slumber the night before. 

He barely heard Eddie's voice cut through his half-dream to cry, "Wait, stop, that's him!", before he was jolted awake by a slamming of breaks and his head being thrown forwards to crack against the plastic that separated him from the front of the car. 

He sat back with a groan as Joe parked the car along the side of the street, his hands cupping his battered forehead automatically, and Eddie twisted around in his seat with a frown to say with a wince, "Sorry, should have warned you first."

Barry would have agreed if his head wasn't pounding so bad, but the pair in front of him evidently had greater concerns, as they were both out of the car before he could form a sentence. Barry groped for the handle so he could leave too, before he remembered that it wouldn't work, so he knocked pointedly on the window until Eddie sheepishly jogged back to him and opened the door to let him out. 

"Sorry, I forgot the back doors only open from the outside. Come on, Joe just went with Julian into the shelter. We should go too and see if he's made any progress."

"Right behind you." Barry nodded, and tried to subtly take in their surroundings. They were at a dodgy pet shelter, with trashcans knocked over in front of the doors and the smell of something sour and unpleasant on the air. He tried to ignore it as he followed Eddie into the building, which only smelled worse; reeking like wet dog and animal piss. The woman at the counter had a round, doughy face, and a splattering of grey hairs along the corners of her upper lip. 

Eddie approached her desk first, with a smile that was so unbothered Barry wondered if he didn't notice the smell, to ask her, "Hi, our friends just came in here, you wouldn't happen to know where they went, would you?"

She studdied him a moment before she explained, "Yes, the pair looking for a cat. The little blond one looked excited, so I sent him off with that officer to go and examine the cages; see if they find it back there. We've had some new strays dropped off last night, and not all of them are on my list yet. I thought it would be faster if they went to take a look themselves. If you know anything that can help me identify it, though, I can check through the database and see if any of our other shelters in the area have had any drop-offs that match what you're looking for." 

"Oh, well, we don't know much about it, really, Julian would be your best bet to ask, he's just back there, I'm sure he--"

Joes voice traveled through the room and efficiently cut Barry off as he appeared from behind a shady beaded curtain, following close after Julian, to tell him anxiously, "Hey, look, don't panic, I'm sure we'll find her. There's four set of eyes now, we're bound to find something." 

"What's the point? Even the Flash looked for her, and if he couldn't find her, then maybe I'm just wasting my time."

Joe turned sharply to Barry and asked, frowning, "The Flash looked for her?"

Eddie sounded significantly more impressed, likely because he didn't have a clue to Barry's secret identity, "Must be a damn important cat, if you got the Flash combing the streets for her. Joe's right, we'll find her. This woman here was just telling us about how she can look up the records of other shelters to check if they have anything about your cat."

"Really?" Julian asked, perking up immediately. "You can do that?"

The woman frowned sympathetically, and Barry had the strange feeling she was speaking to him the same way she would look at a puppy that was brought through her doors, as her voice raised in pitch and took an excited edge, "Of course I can, darling. We'll find out where your cat is in no time, don't you worry. I just need some basic information about what breed she is, and anything you can tell me about any identifying markings."

"Well, I found her as a stray, so I don't know what breed for certain, but I did some research, and from what I can tell she's some sort of Siamese mix--Point Lynx and Siamese mix, perhaps? She's a bit old, and--oh, she's got a mark on the bottom of her front left paw that looks like South America." Julian said, practically running to the desk, and smiling at the woman in a way that Barry had never seen. If he didn't know how unpleasant Julian really was, he could almost see how she could mistake him for a puppy. He knew Julian, though, and seeing this side of him felt...almost indecent. 

Eddie didn't seem bothered, though Joe was looking strangely at the back of his head, and Barry was so busy scrutinizing the man that he almost jumped when the woman announced proudly, "Alright, I've got three hits! I'll print you a list of addresses, and shoot an email to each shelter to let them know you may drop by. I'd be willing to bet one of those three cats is yours!" 

Julian took the list, and practically skipped out of the shelter, chattering to Eddie with the excitement of a child on a sugar high. He was too caught up in the moment to remember to laugh when Barry tripped on one of the overturned trashcans. Well, it was an improvement from his usual self, so Barry tried not to feel too weirded out as he was wedged in the back of the cruiser beside Julian, who couldn't stop bouncing his legs for the life of him as they headed towards the closest address on his printed list. 

They pulled up, and this shelter looked much nicer than the last. It was cleaner, there was no strange odor about it, and it was sandwiched between a deli and a coffee bar. A little bell rang over their heads as they walked in, and Julian moved to the counter so fast Barry hardly saw him move. He exchanged quick words with the receptionist before he disappeared behind the counter and was being led back to where the cages were kept. Another girl took the first ones place and asked, "Are you with him? I can start looking through the files to get your pet back to you if you can give me some information? We'll need to see identification and proof of ownership before we surrender any pets back, of course, but if you don't have that we can keep the animal for up to seven days under your name." 

Eddie took up reciting the information back that Julian had shared at the last stop--which was good, because Barry had forgotten it. He got midway through the list before the girl frowned and asked, "You're not the owner of that little Siamese mix, Mulligan, are you?" 

"Err, I can't recall the name, but--there you are, you can tell her!" Eddie said, ignoring the sudden panic in the small girls face in favor of waving Julian over to counter, "Your cat, her name is Mulligan, isn't it?"

Julians face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he turned eagerly to the girl, whose mouth was frozen in a little 'o', her eyebrows out of sight beneath her bangs. "That's my cat! I--she wasn't in any of the cages, I thought she wasn't here."

The girl didn't seem capable of answering him. She just stared, face frozen, shaking her head as if in horrified disbelief before she slowly opened a drawer at the counter and retracted a pink collar with a tiny silver tag on the front. Mullignas name had been written in large, looping letters that had to be squished in at the end, and the sentiment made Barry feel like he had been punched. His lungs collapsed in on themselves as he watched the realization dawn on Julians face. 

His bright eyes went dull, then bright again, though for a different reason than before. His smile slowly froze and then melted into a frown, and without warning he stepped away from the counter, a shaky hand to his chest as he said, voice wavering, "I--no--you're mistaken. She can't be--I just saw her three nights ago, she's not--tell me she's not--"

"Julian, I'm so sorry." Eddie said, the first of the three to find their voice. Joe was rooted to the spot, as was Barry. 

"I--she came in a few days ago, she was hit by a car. We did what we could to save her, but there was nothing left to do for her. I'm so sorry."

Julian didn't say a word. His entire body was shaking, and the collar was locked in his fist in a grip so tight his knuckled were white, and he walked past them all without so much of a glance. He only stopped at the door to say to them in a monotonous, expressionless way, "I think...I think I'm going to just walk home. Thanks for looking with me...sorry to waste your time."

"Julian--Julian, wait!" Barry called, and started after him, but was ignored, the door banging shut, the bell tinkling loudly in way of the silence. 

Joe was staring sadly at the closed door, and said softly, "Someone ought to make sure he gets home okay. We should at least drive him back to--"

"No, I'll do it." Barry interrupted, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It was odd and totally out of place, but he was remembering what Julian had told the Flash; that he would consider talking about Carter if he found Julian's cat. It couldn't hurt if he tested the waters a bit as Barry..and then maybe he could see Carter in person; see if he still put on a front when he thought Julian was just with a regular guy, without the threat of a metahuman to stop him showing his anger. 

"Barry, you hate the guy, I don't think--"

"He's too proud to let you drive him home, just...I know what I'm doing. His apartment isn't far, I'll just walk with him and make sure he gets there alright. Trust me."

"Alright.." Joe sighed, after a long moment of thought, "But hurry, he's probably halfway down the street by now. Come on, Eddie, we should get back."

Barry sighed gratefully, and rushed out the front door, barely able to refrain from using his superspeed to catch up with Julian when he saw him at the corner pf the street. He settled on a quick jog instead, and made it to his side before he had finished crossing the crosswalk. Julian barely seemed to notice him, staring at the pink collar in his hand instead. Barry was stumped. He had been so sure chasing after him, but now that Barry was beside him, he didn't know what to say. Words didn't seem quite right, somehow. 

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry about your cat."

"No you're not. You said it yourself, she was a stupid cat, theres no reason to pretend otherwise." Julian said, his voice venomous and low. Barry could feel in his chest how painful it must have been for Julian to lie to himself like that. 

"Look, what I said...I was wrong. Your cat means something to you. I shouldn't have said anything about it." Barry said sincerely, and his throat burned like acid when Julian blinked quickly and turned his face away. They walked two more blocks in silence before they made it to the front of Julians apartment, standing awkwardly as Julian waited to be buzzed in; as he had left his key in his desk back at work.

"Thanks for walking me home...and for looking with me." He finally said, and his voice was cracked like he was crying, even though he hadn't yet. He seemed only a blink away from it, though. 

"Oh--I--Julian, of course." Barry said, startled at the surge of protectiveness he felt swelling in his gut. He fought for something to say that maybe wouldn't break his heart so much, and asked quickly, "You said you found her on a bridge, earlier. You never finished your story. I promise not to be such a dick this time if you wanted to--oh, wait, don't do that!"

Barry had never been good with seeing people cry, and the moment the first tear fell down Julians face he panicked, and crushed the man into a hug so tight he felt the tears through his tee shirt, cold and wet against his collarbone. 

The hug didn't last long. The door was flung open and Julian jumped away immediately as Carter glared down the steps to demand, "Just what do you think you're doing with him? I should have known I couldn't trust you, Jules, always--"

"What the Hell is your problem?" Barry snarled, so overcome with rage at seeing Julian blamed that he had to fight to keep his fist from vibrating with how furious he was. 

"My problem? That's my boyfriend you had your hands all over! I don't know who you think you are, touching him like--"

"Carter!" Julian cried, and practically flung himself into the mans arms, which appeared to stump his irate boyfriend, if only for a second before he became infuriated again. 

"I--you're crying." He said in shock, blinking down at him, hands loose at his sides. Then he zeroed in on Barry and his face twisted up in fury as he snarled, "Did you put your hands on him? Did you do this, making my Julian cry? What the hell did you--"

"He just walked me home! It's Mulligan--she got hit by a car, and they couldn't...they couldn't save her." 

Barry was breathing hard, waiting for the response, and ready to Clock carter in his stupid hooked nose if he so much as raised his voice the wrong way. He didn't, though, and calmed significantly to ask, "Oh, uh, he just walked you home, then? You don't...you don't even know him?"

"No, he's a friend from work." Julian sniffled, face still burried against the mans chest, "H-he helped me look for her, and I was upset when the shelter told me, so he walked me home."

"Well, you could have called me if you needed someone to walk you home. You don't need to inconvenience your coworkers like that, baby." He said, in a sickly sweet way that made Barry's teeth burn with how angry he was. He then turned to Barry to say, with a tight smile, "He's kind of an idiot sometimes, always forgetting I can get him any time he needs. He doesn't need you to do..." He paused to look Barry up and down with a grimace, "anything...for him. I'm sorry he made you walk so far."

"It was my pleasure." Barry hissed, and tried to keep the sneer off his face for Julians sake; he was grieving his cat, and someone needed to be there for him, especially if his self-centered boyfriend wasn't. He couldn't believe Julian was letting him talk about him like that. 

"I'm sure it was." Carter said, and Barry didn't miss the sharp change in his posture. "Julian, honey, go inside and wait for me. I'll be right up."

"I--carter, don't. He's just from work, and nothing happened. I told you about him; he's Barry Allen, I hate him, remember?" Julian said, an oddly desperate, terrified look in his eyes. 

"Didn't seem much like hate from where I was standing. Go upstairs like I told you to. Now." 

Julian swallowed whatever response he was forming, and his lips thinned before he turned his back to them and retreated upstairs. Carter grimaces and waited until they heard the apartment door shut before he said, smirking, "I think we need to have a little conversation, Barry Allen." 

"Yeah," Barry growled, practically aching to knock the mans teeth into his throat, "I think we do. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this, I really didn't want to kill the cat, but I'm a terrible human being and I did.


	5. The Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry tries to confront Carter, with a different result than he expected to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment I'm thirsty AF 
> 
>  
> 
> Also: there are a few trigger warnings I wanted to add for this chapter, if you're concerned about where it's headed, so spoilers ahead, sort of, but there is: a reference to nonconsentual sex, and violent and manipulative behaviors. If you want me to add anything to the warnings, let me know.

  
There was a beat of silence, before Carter sighed, and pushed his hands into his pockets. He came down the front steps with exaggerated slowness, his eyes never leaving Barry's, and didn't stop until they were on even ground, so close that Barry could smell beer on His breath. Barry wished he had less restraint so he could deck him, but found himself instead waiting anxiously for what the man would say to him; what excuse he would have lined up.

It didn't come. A car down the street backfired, startling them both, and Carter looked him over, scoffed quietly, and said, his lips quirking upwards at the corners, "You don't like me much, do you?"

"No," Barry admitted, something cold and furious rattling in his chest, "I don't."

"But you do like Julian?" Carter asked, and cocked his head with such certainty that Barry ground his teeth together to keep his composure from slipping.

"We work together." Barry snapped, as civil as he could manage. He added, because he felt it was necessary, "He's my coworker, nothing more."

"Is that so? Well, Barry Allen, you'd do best to remember that. He's your coworker; not your friend, not your latest conquest; he's just the guy sitting in the desk across from yours. You don't get to play hero and walk him home when he's sad because you think it will get you closer to his bedroom. That spot is taken." Carter said, his voice low and smug, lips still stretched into a smirk, "The next time you so much as look at him funny, I'll know, and I'll tell Julian to quit."

"I'm not trying to sleep with him, I--"

"Oh, I'm not asking what your intentions are; I can read them in your face. You want a shot with Julian? So does every guy on this block, and you know something? None of you will ever have a chance with him as long as I'm around. If it weren't for me, who knows where he would be right now. I'm too good for him, and he knows it. He would never choose you when he could have me."

"You're hurting him." Barry growled, unable to say anything else, and Carters face changed immediately. The self-assured smile slid off, and he stood up straight to give Barry a calculating look, as if to gauge how much he knew. Barry put as much anger as he could into the look he gave back.

"Julian tell you that?" He snapped.

"He doesn't have to." Barry said, and felt his breath hitch in fury, "I saw his eye, I know you--"

"He's clumsy." Carter interrupted, his face darkening.

"See, I don't think he is." Barry said, and stepped deliberately closer to the man, all too aware of how much he was being towered over.

For a moment, Carters fist twitched with the ache to punch him, and Barry almost wished he would, just for an excuse to hit back, but Carter laughed, blowing warm, rancid breath over Barrys face as he took a step back, telling him, "You won't get what you want out of me tonight, Barry Allen. You should go; you've long overstayed your welcome here. Don't worry about Julian; he's my responsibility, not yours."

"I'm not finished, I--"

"No, Allen, you are finished, and so is Julian, with you." Carter said, and before Barry could interject again the door leading into the apartment complex banged closed, and Carter was out of view. He felt far too warm as he walked back to work, fists vibrating out of control in his pockets. The only thing that kept him from going back to Julians apartment was the fact that he still had the chance to get through to him as the Flash, if he chose his words right. Still, he felt sick leaving Julian alone with that man.

  
*********

"Albert! Hey, wait up!"

If Julian was surprised to see the Flash jogging after him, he didn't show it. He stopped on the sidewalk and looked over his shoulder, crossing his arms as Barry came to a halt beside him, taking care to blur his face. Julian wasn't impressed, and said sharply, "Don't tell me I was moving too quickly for you?"

"I was trying to let you know I was coming; I didn't want to startle you if I just appeared beside you. I wanted to talk to you about your cat. You said--"

Julian looked back in the direction Barry had come from, and then turned to face him again with a waspish, "I said we could talk if you found her, and you didn't, so the conversation is over."

"But you did find the cat, I heard from--"

"I'll save you the time, shall I? You heard from Allen, meddling prick that he is, and decided to see if I wanted a shoulder to cry on, is that it? Or maybe he sent you after me? It doesn't matter, whatever the reason is that you're here, you're not wanted." Julian said, speaking quickly, and turing to walk away as he did.

Barry caught his wrist to stop him, and said urgently, "Julian--"

Julian yanked it back, glaring with a fire Barry had never seen in his eyes, and snarled through clenched teeth, "It's none of your business what I do with my boyfriend, and it's not Allen's either. He had no right to accuse Carter of hurting me, and no business to pretend he's my friend when he isn't. We are work partners, that's all, and you're just a man in a suit that wants to play hero, but guess what? I don't need saving, so kindly leave me alone."

Barry had never seen him so angry, his entire body shaking with the strength of it, and he had no choice but to step back from him. Julian scoffed, and said with a snort, "Go find somebody else to practice your speeches on."

Barry stood still even after Julian was gone, staring at the spot where he had just been standing. Something had happened, he knew. He had felt a squirming heat in his chest all the way back to work when he left Julians apartment telling him something was wrong, but he had forced it down. Now, standing alone in the early morning sunshine, he wished he had gone back.

************

Julian wasn't talking to him. It had been a week, and the only time he spoke a word to Barry was to ask him for a sample, or to snap at him about being late. He wouldn't talk about Carter, and he even stopped talking to Eddie and Joe besides when it was necessary. Barry wasn't sure what had changed between them, exactly, but he knew it had something to do with Carter. A week of silence, and Barry had never felt so worried for Julian since he had met him. He wasn't acting like himself; he was anxious and quick to anger, pushing anyone that spoke to him away without remorse. He didn't look like he had slept in ten years, with his hair never quite done to his usual standards, his skin startlingly pale, and his eyes dark and swollen with exhaustion.

Barry couldn't take it, and by Friday he had had enough. He couldn't even sleep because he was torturing himself about what Carter could be doing to Julian. Something wasn't right about the way he was behaving, and Barry was sure he wasn't the only one that sensed it. So, when Julian sat down at his desk for lunch, Barry took the opportunity to confront him, saying, softer than he meant to, as if trying to confront a frightened animal, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but are you okay?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look, I know, Julian."

"You know what, Allen?" He asked, putting his sandwich down on the table and crossing his arms over his chest in challenge. Barry knew what he meant by it; keeping himself small and defended in case the worst happened. It made the lump in Barry's throat hard to talk around.

"Julian, Carter isn't the kind of guy he made you think he is. He's hurting you, and you don't have to say it out loud for me to know that. I--"

Julian hadn't said anything, but his eyes had flicked nervously to his desk and then at Barry again, and he was almost sure he had managed to break through to him. His mouth opened, and then closed, and stayed closed for several seconds as a struggle played out on his face to find the right words. After what seemed forever, Julian said slowly, regretfully, almost, "He hasn't done anything since Mulligan died. We fought, and we both said some things we didn't mean, but he hasn't....done anything."

"Julian, just because he hasn't done anything today doesn't mean he won't do something tomorrow, or the day after."

"I know that. I....I told him I would leave him if he didn't get help, and he has. He's--he's really trying, but I have to do my part, too. He thinks it would make everything easier for him if I stopped talking to other people, at least for the time being. He gets jealous easily, and he thinks every guy I meet wants to sleep with me. He wanted me to quit my job, but I talked him out of it. He's seeing a therapist, and he has to do all this stuff, but he said it would make it easier for him if I stopped talking to you and to Eddie. I just...I want him to get better."

"Julian, that's not how this works." Barry said, and his stomach tightened unpleasantly, "You don't have to go out of your way to make sure your boyfriend doesn't hit you. He shouldn't want to."

"Look, I know that, but he wasn't always like this. I know the man that he can be, and I want that side of him back. If I have to make a few sacrifices to get that, then maybe it's worth it. I've been with him for five years, Allen. He isn't the guy you think he is."

"What if he is?"

"Then I'll leave. I don't need you, or the Flash, looking out for me. I've known this man my whole life, I know I can reach him."

"You can't even sleep in the same building as him, Julian; you're practically sleep right now. I don't think staying with him is safe."

"Noted." Julian said, his old edge bleeding back into his words, "But that's for me to decide, isn't it?"

"I just think--"

"I don't care what you think, Allen, alright?" Julian snapped, "Look, I've indulged you and I've talked to you about it, even though you're probably going to run off and tell the Flash everything I've said, but you have no business trying to change my mind about Carter. I'm only telling you this stuff because I want it left alone; I want the Flash to quit trying to talk to me, and I want you to stop giving me advice that I haven't asked for."

Barry didn't get a chance to answer, because Julian stood up quickly from his seat, and shoved his files into an open drawer on his desk, which he shut with enough force that his computer screen wobbled at the impact. He looked at Barry with his eyes like a storm, and told him bitingly as he slid his jacket over his shoulders, "I've finished my reports for the day, I'm heading home early. Cover for me."

Barry was tempted to do the opposite, but as he sat, almost numb, until the end of the work day, he couldn't get himself to make Julians life any harder, and tossed over his shoulder to Singh when he came to check up on their progress, "We ran out of a dye he needed, he's hitting up another lab to run some samples."

He didn't hear Singhs response. His mind was busy turning over what Julian had said; Carter was getting help with his anger, so Barry should be happy, right? Julian said he hadn't raised a finger to him in a week, that was good! But, still, he had seen the damage Carter could inflict, and he couldn't imagine Julian staying in the same building as that man. Maybe he was overthinking it, but he could remember little instances where Julian would show up to work with a faded bruise, or a scratch he couldn't quite explain away. And then when he had shown up with a black eye...Barry didn't want to think about it; how he had gone so long without noticing something was wrong. And Carter was still controlling him; telling him who to talk to, and trying to make him quit.

God, Barrys blood was boiling just thinking about his smug face, and, if Barry couldn't do anything to keep Julian safe, the Flash could.

  
*********

He didn't head home after work. Instead, he slipped into the back alley, and hurriedly tugged the flash uniform from his bag, slipping it on as quickly as he could and shoving his day clothes haphazardly into the bag, ignoring when they caught on paper and it was crumpled beneath them. He had to check on Julian.

He was speeding off down the street before he could talk himself out of it, and skidding to a stop in front of the towering apartment complex. Barry hadn't realized quite how tall it was before. He wasn't even sure which apartment was Julians; he had only seen him at the lobby and in front of the building before. There was one thing to do for it. Barry took a deep breath, adjusted his mask, took several steps back, and then rushed at the building so that he was running up its face, peering into windows to try and catch a glimpse of Julian or Carter inside one of them. They weren't on the ground floor, clearly, and his lap around the second only showed him a pair of young children and their father, and a little old woman working the crossword.

He made it around the third floor, and almost went to the fourth when a light clicked on in one of the apartments he hadn't been able to see into. He sped back around and slowed down enough to stop on the balcony that led out. He knew without looking that it was Julians apartment; he could feel it, somewhere in his chest, that it couldn't be anyone else's. The door to the balcony led to a living room and an open kitchen that Barry could see into. Carter had just come home, and was hanging his coat on a hook by the door, but Julian wasn't anywhere in sight.

Carter moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, and Barry could hear him rummaging through bottles and jars until his hand came back into view with a bottle of cold beer, which he opened against the side of the kitchen table, the cap popping off easily. He picked it up, flicked it into the living room, and called into the apartment, "I'm home."

Despite being outside, Barry could hear him almost clearly, and he stepped backwards into the shadows when Carter moved out of the kitchen and past the windows in front of him. He wasn't noticed. Carter moved onto the couch in the living room and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table as he took a long sip of his beer. He looked over his shoulder into the hall, which was dark, and called again, "Jules, I'm home!"

"I heard you, I'm just cleaning up in here."

Julians response was muffled, and it was several seconds before he came into the living room, still dressed as he had been at work, though his hair was visibly ruffled from his walk home. He probably hadn't checked it in the mirror yet. He smiled warmly at Carter, and sat beside him on the couch with such ease that Barrys teeth ached with how hard he was grinding them.

He kissed the underside of Carters jaw and told him with a frown, "You need a shave." Then he settled back down against him, his head against Carters chest, and he asked, hesitantly, "How was your session today?"

Barry had heard the change in his voice, like it took courage just to ask, but Carter sisn't appear to notice at all; couldn't sense the fear there. He just raised his drink with his free arm, the one Julian wasn't leaning against, and took a hard swallow. He cleared his throat before telling him with a shrug that shook his companion lightly, "Boring. I don't think that therapist you're sending me to knows what she's doing. She keeps asking me dumb questions about my family, isn't she supposed to be making me better?"

"She's trying." Julian said, and kept his eyes trained on the coffee table and on Carters feet.

Carter grunted, and muttered bitterly, "Well, she isn't trying very hard. I mostly made stuff up to see if she was legit, but she didn't catch anything." His face split into a grin, and he said, "You would have thought it was hilarious; I told her my family was part of a drug ring, and she thought I was being serious. She kept--"

Julian pushed off of the couch in frustration and said sharply, "This isn't a game! I mean--dammit, Carter, you promised you would try!"

Carter sat up quickly, his feet moving off of the table and back onto the floor, his face rapidly going pink. He was clutching his beer with white knuckles, and said back, "It's not my fault if she's not doing anything! She doesn't want to help me, she just wants to waste my time talking about feelings and shit, and then get her paycheck at the end of the week. It's a scam, Julian, all those therapists are."

"No, they're not!" Julian shouted back at him, his hands raking through his hair in frustration, "Let me ask you--do you even want to get better? From where I'm standing, it doesn't look like it."

A muscle in Carters jaw twitched, and Barry thought, for a second, that he was going to stand up and take a swing at Julian. He was ready to faze directly into the room if he so much as raised a finger, but he didn't. His face calmed and he said, placatingly, "I'm sorry Julian, you're right. I'll try harder, I promise. You know how hard this is for me; I've always had a temper, but I would never hurt you intentionally. You know that, don't you?"

Julian lookeed at him uncertainly, warring over whether to say yes or no, and Barry almost didn't hear him when he whispered, turning away from his boyfriend quickly, "Of course I do."

He moved into the kitchen like he was in retreat, and Carter watched him with narrowed eyes before sighing and standing up from the couch to follow him, bottle still in his hand. Julian heard him move into the room behind him and asked with a casualness that seemed forced, "What do you want for dinner? There's leftover lasagna in the fridge, but I was going to take it with me for lunch tomorrow unless you want some?"

Julian reached upwards to retrieve a pan, and continued beginning to sound relaxed, even as Carter crept closer to him, "How about eggs, and I'll go to the store tomorrow morning and find some real food? We used to eat breakfast for dinner all the time when we first went out, do you remember? We would go to--"

Carter cut him off by spinning him around, a sly smile on his face, and kissed him hard on the mouth, though Barry couldn't tell if Julian was reciprocating. He had gone completely still with surprise, and when they separated, he looked confused and slightly off-balance. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Carter said, and smirked in that infuriating way he had done to Barry, "I'm just remembering how long it's been."

"Oh. I don't--"

Whatever Julian was going to say was cut off, because Carter lifted him quickly off of the floor and onto the counter, sliding between his knees so that he could kiss Julians neck with ease. The pan was pushed behind him to make room. Carters eyes were dark and hooded as he said urgently, "Do you remember the first time we did it? You didn't want to at first, but once you got used to it, you liked it. You looked so good, Julian, just like you do tonight. We could do it right here, right now, just like--"

He was speaking between sloppy kisses that led up Julians neck, and when Julian put his hands on Carters chest to push him off, Carter caught his wrist and moved his hand down between his legs, pinning it there until Julian pulled it back and twisted his face away. It exposed more of his neck, and Carter took it as an invitation to kiss further along the column of his throat, but Julian said quickly, pushing him again, "Carter, stop. Not tonight, I have work early tomorrow and I still need to eat dinner and have a shower."

Slowly, Carter pulled away, grunting in frustration as he did. His face was curled in distaste, and he said with a groan, "We'll be quick, I promise."

"No, Carter, I really don't want to tonight." Julian said, and he almost looked sorry for it, though Barry couldn't see shy he should be. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood." Carter hissed, his face darkening further as he pushed away from the counter and from Julian, "It's because you're fucking someone else on the side, aren't you? It's that guy at work, isn't it; that Allen bloke?"

Julian took a deep, shaking breath, and said quickly, "I told you, I haven't even spoken to him. You promised you wouldn't be like this, he's just a coworker. I'm just not in the mood, that's it. Nothing else is going on."

"I can get you in the mood, I bet." Carter said, with a predatory smile, and made to lean in again, but Julian turned away from the offered kiss and he stopped short. He jerked away as if Julian had burned him, and looked around the small kitchen until he found his beer bottle, which he had set aside on the counter beside Julian. He snatched it up, raised it to his lips, and then, finding it empty, gave a cry of frustration and slashed his hand sideways, shattering the bottle on the side of the fridge. Julian flinshed as green glass flew everywhere and scattered across the floor, and Carter scoffed at him before dropping the broken neck of the bottle and telling him waspishly, "You're lucky it's not yours. Clean this up."

He left the room muttering curses, and Barry heard a door slam shut soon after he disappeared into the hall, but Julian didn't move. He was sitting still on the counter, his eyes wide and his hands clenched against the countertop. It seemed like hours before he swallowed and moved onto the floor, opening a cabinet door and retrieving a dust bin and brush. He was shaking as he hurriedly swept broken glass off the ground, and slid it into the trash with hands he couldn't quite keep still. Then, he picked the pan up from where it had been shoved aside, and pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, turning the oven on with a quiet click. Barry couldn't read his expression.

*********

There were flowers on Julians desk the next day at work, and Barry saw, using his speed when Julians back was turned, that the note that had been attached was in the garbage, a scribbled 'sorry about last night' on the inside. It wasn't signed, but Barry knew who it was from anyways. He didn't say anything to Julian, who still looked tired, but was going about his work as usual; with snark and precision. Barry watched him closely, and tried not to feel too weird about watching him the night before. He would go again tonight, just to make sure Carter wasn't going to hurt him, or push him into something he didn't want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thirst is real I live off of comments


	6. Sending up Flares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A breakthrough comes in the Metahuman case, and Julian seems to be protecting Carter more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my best, because I have a concussion, but I wanted to update. Comments help to heal my wounded head, btw. Also, I'm not just adding the little girl character for filler, she becomes somewhat important later on.

  
It was going on a little more than a week checking up on Julian as the Flash, and there hadn't been an episode like the first. Barry waited with baited breath each time Carter would come into the apartment, sure each night he would slip up or get angry, but he didn't. They acted like a normal couple, eating dinner together and talking about their day to one another. Barry felt faintly creepy when he found himself staring in at them while Carter watched the evening news, and Julian read a book, feet propped up on his boyfriends legs. Occasionally, Julian would say something that made Carter tense up or raise his voice, and the atmosphere of the room would change, but the rage in the mans face quickly fizzled out after a few seconds composing himself. Things would go back to normal quickly, except for odd tense in Julians spine that took a bit longer to fade.

Barry was caught between relief and anger every time he left the apartment; he was relieved Julian hadn't been hurt, but fuming that he hadn't seen through Carters act. He was on his eighth night, now, and hadn't even made it to the apartment complex before his comms came to life, buzzing in his ears. He nearly toppled over backwards from the surprise of it, and before he had completely recovered from being startled, Cisco was speaking into his ear urgently, "Flare is back again, setting fires in a warehouse at the edge of the city."

"Flare?" Barry asked, skidding to a stop. He could just see the front of Julians building on the corner.

"The meta that set fire to the hospital." Cisco explained, "I did some digging; security footage showed me he may have been a doctor there, I don't think he knows how to control his powers. Don't do anything heroic, try to talk him down first. He's at the Ridell building, we think he's been hiding out there."

Swallowing the ill feeling in his chest at leaving Julian without someone to watch out for him, Barry turned his back on the apartment building, and ran towards the edge of the city, trying to focus only on the task at hand. It was easier to do once he got there. The warehouse was abandon, but it was a fireball; burning so thoroughly that Barry could feel the heat from across the street, sweat beading along the back of his neck. He couldn't see anyone for a moment, and was almost certain the meta had gotten away, but, in front of the building was a rusted farm truck, and a shadow was moving just beside it. Barry rushed over, and found the doctor crouching in the dirt in a singed lab coat, huddling over a cell phone, sweat and tears streaming down his face as he shouted into the receiver, "Send someone, help, she's in the building! She's in the building, help her!"

Barry felt a chill run up his spine despite the heat in the air from the flames, and asked loudly, urgently, "Who's inside?"

The man whirled, grateful and relieved, and said through tears, "Flash! Thank god!It's my daughter! I was only gone for an hour, and the entire place was up in flames when I got back! Please, do something! She's only eight! She doesn't know how to stop it!"

"Are you saying you didn't start this fire?" Barry shouted over the roar of the flames.

"I brought her here to keep her safe! She can't control it, it's not her fault!"

Barrys stomach sank. He looked toward the fire, feeling a tendril of fear sweep over his gut for the little girl inside, and said quickly over his shoulder, "Stay here!" to the crouching man.

The fire was too big to put out on his own. He went from one end of the building to the other, trying to windmill his arms fast enough to snuff it out, but flames were rising faster than he could bring them down, and there was nowhere he could get in short of diving into the flames. If he could run fast enough to grab her and get out, maybe his burns would heal quickly and not be life threatening. He scrapped that idea. He didn't know where the girl was in the building, he would be burned to a crisp before he was able to find her. But he couldn't wait for her to burn to death, either.

"Flash!"

Barry turned around, and was never so glad to see Killer Frost in his life. There was an essence of Caitlin in her eyes, nervously flickering beneath the surface, but she walked towards him with a confidence he never knew she possessed. She spent no time studying the fire, and told him sharply, "I'm going to make you a path to get in; grab her quickly and then get out. I don't know how long the ice will be able to withstand the heat, and once its gone, those flames will swallow you. On your signal."

He nodded, so relieved he couldn't even register fear any more, and befor his eyes the fire split in two as an ice pathway spread through the building, thick and glittering. At the end of it, Barry could see the little girl, lying flat on the metal railing of a bed, the matress beneath her having been burned away. He rushed to her, ignoring the sweat that made his suit stick to him, slowing his movements marginally. She was asleep, he realizes as he got close. Her clothing had burned off, and her head was bright and shiny like an egg where her hair had been seared away. Her back and arms were burning, flames dancing over the skin, and her small face was pinched and tormented, but not in pain. Barry understood suddenly. She was caught in a nightmare, and her powers were trying to protect her as she slept. She wasn't in danger of the fire at all.

"BARRY!"

He had forgotten about the melting ice. He turned, sure the path would be thin as dental floss, but it was holding up well. Caitlin was standing at the end of it, her blue necklace glowing in the light, and she was pointing upwards towards the inside of the building. It was all going to come down; the beams where nearly toothpicks holding the roof up. The fire wouldn't hurt the girl, but the collapse of a building would. He had to find a way to wake her.

The metal bedframe was red-hot, and he couldn't shake it, but he couldn't touch the girl, with fire across her body, either. If he was going to rescue her, he'd have to put the fire out that was on her. So, swallowing his fear, he worked himself into a sprint, circling the bed frame once, twice, a hundred times, watching the flames slowly begin to flicker out, shrinking on her skin until, finally, there was nothing but a fine line of smoke lifting off of her like a ribbon.

She woke with a gasp, spluttering and horrified as she looked around her. Barry didn't let her look for long, and swept her into his arms, shooting across the narrowing ice path as the ceiling overhead crackled, and beams began swinging inward. He was barely outside when the whole thing collapsed with a groan, flames still licking at the sky.

The girls father ran to her immediately, shucking off his jacket and wrapping her soundly in it before crushing her to his chest in a hug, shaking both of them with the force of his sobs. Barry looked over their heads at Caitlin, who was staring at them in awe, before looking up at him and saying breathlessly, "It's a little girl."

The words followed Barry through the night as he paced STAR labs. He had known that anyone could have been affected by the particle accelerators explosion, but he hadn't ever thought of the possibility of a child being stuck with powers like that. Caitlin was showing the girl and her father through the facility, while Cisco ran tests, and Barry healed from burns he didn't remember receiving. He blamed the adrenaline, and didn't leave the labs until Cisco and Caitlin had made a comfortable room for the father and daughter, taking certain precautions not to leave anything flammable in the room until Cisco could fashion a device that would help the girl to control her powers.

Barry was bone tired by the time he left the labs, and almost forgot that he still hadn't checked on Julian. It was well past 2am, and he knew he was probably asleep already, but he couldn't swallow the need to make sure he was okay, and bolted towards the apartment building and onto the balcony. Every light on the floor was off, and it took Barrys eyes several seconds to adjust to the dark, but once they did he could see Julian sleeping soundly on the couch in their living room, still in his work clothes, though his tie was undone and halfway across the room on the floor. Carter was nowhere to be seen, and Barry felt his muscles relax. Julian was fine, and the young meta was safe. He could rest easy until the morning...when he would have to return his suit to STAR labs and explain to cisco how he managed to get so many tears and scuffs on his suit during the fire. Really, he didn't know how he did it himself.

 

*********

  
He was lucky. Cisco was running an errand in Star City when Barry returned the suit, so he didn't have to explain a thing, and left his suit on the mannequin for him to find when he got back. The little girl, Sammy, and her dad, Einar, were both running tests with Caitlin when he dropped in, and looked better than they had the night before. Caitlin had brought clothes for both of them, since all their things had burned up, and Sammy looked startlingly young in a pair of pink pajamas, her bald head gleaming in the light. But she was smiling, and hugged Barry quickly before he hurried off to work.

The street was practically empty on his way, but he guessed it was because he was earlier than usual. Well, not 'early', per se, but he was on time. So was Julian, already at his desk and typing away on his computer. He didn't look up when Barry came in and hung up his jacket, but it was no longer a surprise to be ignored, so Barry turned on his monitor and started up a case, waiting for the silence to grow comfortable.

It was almost nice not to start the day with an argument, and Barry was beginning to actually find interest in a car jacking case when he heard Julians chair roll across the floor and his head shot up in surprise. He had managed to forget Julian was there at all, or maybe his exhaustion made him easier to startle, but he found his heart speeding up a step when he heard the sound. Julian didn't notice. He was carrying the flowers Carter had gotten him, dead and brown, to the wastebasket. The wilted stems poked up over the side.

Julian moved to the other side of the room, and flicked the latch on one of the windows open, pushing the glass until he had a large enough opening to dump the leftover water out from the vase and onto the sidewalk after a quick scan to be sure it didn't hit anyone. Just watching him made Barry think of Carter, trying to buy Julians forgiveness by playing nice and leaving him little gifts and flowers under the pretense he had changed for the better. He used kindness like fisherman used lures, and it drove Barry mad that Julian, genius as he was, couldn't see through it. He didn't realize how deep in his thoughts he was, and when he slammed a drawer in his desk closed in frustration, it startled them both. It was metal and hollow besides a few folders, and it shut with a bang like a firework in the silent room.

Julian jolted at the sound, and fumbled the vase he had been carrying, barely moving his foot out of the way as it smashed loudly on the floor of the lab, pieces skittering across the floor. He looked surprised with himself, and blinked several times before he said quickly, stumbling over his words, "Shit. Shit, my fault, I'll get it. Sorry--I'm sorry, I--"

Barry shot out of his seat and around his desk to survey the damage, watching Julians face pale as he tried to assure him, "Hey, woah, you don't have to apologize, it was an accident. Here, let me help. Honestly, don't worry about it, I startled you."  
  
"I-I'm sorry."

There was something off about Julians tone, and Barry hated it, but he didn't know how to make Julian understand that he meant it, saying with as much meaning as he could, "It's an easy clean, it's fine."

 

*********

Allen was speaking, but Julian couldn't sure what he was saying. All he could do was focus on the glass around his feet and try to apologize. It had happened so fast, he was almost to his desk when a slam like a gunshot broke through the room and he lost his grip on the vase. He couldn't catch it, and glass was spinning across the floor before the echo of the slam had even died out.

Barry had moved away from him to grab a dust bin as Julian kneeled on the floor to pick up the larger pieces, but he couldn't quite do it. His hands were shaking so bad bad he couldn't close his fingers on anything, and when he did his numb fingers would betray their purpose and he'd drop what he had managed to pluck out of the mess. He couldn't even see what he was reaching for, tears were blurring his vision so fast. Why was he crying? He dropped a stupid bloody vase, and his stomach felt like it had flipped inside out, panic sitting slick and cold in his chest. It wasn't a big deal, all he had to do was sweep up the glass and it would be fine, but he couldn't, and meddling Barry Allen was telling him with such worry it made him sick with himself, "Stop, stop, I've got it. Just stay still, there's broken glass everywhere. You're going to get yourself hurt."

He desperately wanted to turn to him and tell him that he's a grown man and doesn't need babysitting; that he can clean up his own messes, but all that comes out is another wavering "Sorry."

Barry doesn't tell him not to apologize again. His lips purse in that worried way of his, and all Julian can do is stare at him as he sweeps the last of the broken glass into the dust bin and empties it into the trash, on top of the mangled flower stems Julian had just thrown out. He knew Barry was staring at him, trying to read something in his face, which he tried to keep down. He doesn't want Allen to know he's so close to crying over a broken pot, and feels sick to think that maybe he already pieced that much together.

"You can't even tell anything happened." Allen finally said after a moment, when Julian had finally stood up completely and shook off the breakdown that had come creeping to the surface. It nearly came back when Allen asked him slowly, like he's a wounded animal, "Are you okay?"

It was all he needed to get back to normal, and snapped more sharply than he meant to, "Fine."

"Julian--"

From the corner of his eye he saw a hand reaching towards him, and before he could stop himself he flinched, his stomach curling just slightly with the anticipation of the impact.

*********

Barry froze, midway to touching Julians shoulder, and he knew something was wrong. Julian had flinched. Barely, sure, but he still turned away like he was expecting to be hit. His hand lowered back down, slowly, until it was at Barrys side, and he didn't let it curl up into the angry fist it wanted to become, purely for Julians sake, when he said, sharp and angry, "You told me it was better now."

He knew it. He knew he should have gone to Julians apartment before he went to the fire; knew Carter couldn't change.

Julians eyes snapped from Barrys limp hand to his face, and he said quickly, his breathing shallow and fast, "It is! It is, it was just a rough night."

Barry scoffed, a sour anger flooding his chest, "Just a rough night--look at yourself, you can't even look me in the eye!"

"Well, it would have been true if your stupid friend wasn't spying on my all the time!" Julian shouted back, his face pink with anger.

Barrys heart stopped for several seconds. He was sure that neither man knew he was watching them, and he felt his face heat before Julian snorted and turned on his heel, marching across the room to dig through the pocket of his jacket that hung on the wall. He returned with something red bunched in his fist, and thrust it out towards Barry with a furious shine in his eyes, opening his fingers to reveal a strip of red, singed fabric from his suit. There was no denying where it came from, he would recognize the color and texture anywhere--anyone in Central City would.

"Carter found it on our balcony this morning. He thinks I'm cheating with your stupid friend, all because you won't stop meddling in things you have no business in!"

"Did he hit you?" Barry asked, because he needed to know. Had he put Julian in harms way just by being there?

"No." Julian hissed, a fire burning in his eyes as he said it. "I convinced him that he was wrong about where it came from; I told him it was from one of my ties and that he was being paranoid. I won't lie for your friend again. If the Flash shows up to my home again, I will shoot him where he stands. I didn't come this far trying to feel safe in my own home just to have to worry about some masked man staring at me through my windows. Tell him to back off, or I'll file a report, and the city can know how their masked hero is a pervert peeking through windows on his off time."

"I-he was worried about your safety. He doesn't think Carter has changed."

"Well, I do." Julian said quietly, chest heaving as he came down from his rage, but, as angry as he was, Barry could still see the fear in his eyes.

Barry couldn't let it go so easily. Julian was right; he needed to feel safe in his apartment, and if watching him as the Flash jeopardized that, then he would stop. On one condition.

"I'll tell the Flash to leave you alone if you swear to tell me if your boyfriend does anything."

Julian studied him for a long moment, weighing his options, then growled low in his throat and grumbled, "Yes. Yes, if anything happens, Allen, I will tell you. I can't shoot the Flash anyways, he can outrun a bullet."

Barry gave him a weak smile, unable to completely shake away the feeling that Julian needed his help, and offered, because he had nothing else to give him, "We should get back to working. Singh expects a write-up on the Englebert case before we leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment. It will make the poor concussed girl feel better.


	7. Over the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young meta is getting settled in, but things between Julian and Carter have come to a new extreme, and Barry finds he should have stepped in sooner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a warning for this chapter, so please don't read it if you are in any way going to be affected by the following things: Graphic depictions of nonconsentual sex, graphic violence, and hospitilization scenes. I'm aware there is a fairly graphic scene in this chapter, and if you can;t read that, I completely understand and please don't feel pressured to read it.

  
Trusting Julian was harder to do than Barry thought. Every time he walked past Julians apartment he was tempted to slip into his Flash suit and bolt to the balcony, if only for a second, to make sure he was alright. He almost did, a few days after their confrontation, but when he got closer to the building he saw that they had installed curtains, and kept them closed tightly to avoid people looking in. He hated going down Julians street because of it, and when he did all he could think about was that somewhere behind those blue curtains, Carter could be hurting Julian, and Barry couldn't do anything to stop it.

He started going to work early just to be sure he saw Julian walk in, and could subtly look him over for any signs of injury, even though he never showed up with one, and he was pretty sure Julian knew what he was doing, because every time Barry did it he was met with a glare when his eyes slid up to Julians face. His only real distraction from Julian was little Sammy in STAR labs. She was learning to control her powers, but falling asleep was still an issue. The necklace Cisco had crafted would prevent a major fire from breaking out, but when nightmares hit the girl smoke would rise from her skin, and Barry and Cisco would watch her with their hearts in their throats, worried the necklace might not be able to hold off the flames for long.

Her father had been difficult to deal with for the first three days, hovering over her and interfering with their tests in an effort to make sure his daughter was safe, but Caitlin finally found a way to keep him distracted by sending him off on little errands for the girl, or giving him small projects to work on as she tried to find Sammy a cure for her powers. They were a welcome addition in STAR labs, and they gave Barrys mind a break from worrying over Julian for at least a few hours a day. What was more, Sammy was petitioning to be a super hero, designing costumes for herself in colored marker and slipping them onto Ciscos desk when his back was turned.

They knew it couldn't happen, and she knew too on some small scale that she wasn't fit to be solving crimes at her age, but talking about the possibilities of it lifted her spirits each time her powers flared up without warning. They were all in agreement that for her birthday, which would have to be spent in STAR labs due to the nature of her powers, and the lack of control they presented, they would turn part of her fantasies to reality and create the first Super Suit she had designed for herself, in the same material they had used for Barrys. It wouldn't ease the ache she felt at being stuck in the labs all day, but they were all certain it would lift her spirits to have a suit of her own.

Things were easier in STAR labs than they had been in a long time, and with all the time it took from Barry during the day, he was able to blame his distraction for what happened a month later. It wasn't his fault, he knew, but the niggling sense of guilt still squirmed into his chest when he thought about it; how he hadn't been paying as close attention to Julian as he meant to; how he hadn't stepped in when he had wanted to; when he probably should have.

*********

He was early again, something Singh had taken notice of recently. He had reorganized his desk four times while waiting for Julian to show up, the feeling that something was wrong eating at him as he sharpened all of his pencils again. Some of the shavings missed the trash when he swept them off his desk and littered the floor around it, which always annoyed Julian, even though it wasn't on his side of the room and had minimal effect on his life. He never said it bothered him, but when he saw pencil shavings on the floor by Barrys desk he would make a point of staring at them, and then rolling his eyes. Barry always pretended not to notice, and made a point of sliding them onto the floor on purpose for a week just to make Julian angry, but then Julian did that annoying thing where he sipped his coffee irritatingly loud until Barry stopped doing that.

He was thinking about that, and the rivalry they used to keep up, when the minute hand of the clock made it one tick mark past the twelve, and made it 7:01AM. Barry looked up towards the door to their lab, but it was still closed. Technically, Julian should have been at his desk fifteen minutes ago, because he was always a bit early, but now he was late. Even if it was only a minute, it was worrying. Barrys mind immediately went to thoughts of Carter, and the bruises he had seen on Julians face the first day he had found out about the abuse.

With great difficulty, he imagined that Julian was just caught in a long line at Jitters, and forced himself to turn around and compare blood samples. He had no way of knowing Julian was hurt, and he probably wasn't. If he went running after him over nothing it would only make their relationship even more strained than it already was. He decided would give it another half hour before he did anything, but before he could even finish that thought there was a commotion from downstairs.

Barry usually only heard that kind of noise in the department when there was a new metahuman attacking, but when he checked his phone for alerts he found it empty. The noise from the officers downstairs, however, was loud enough that it was concerning, and Barry pushed out of his seat, and out into the hall, looking over the banister to see several officers buzzing with conversation below as Singh weaved through them, his voice being cut by other conversations. Joe and Eddie were on the far end of the room, talking quietly to one another, and it only took one look at Eddies crestfallen face to know something was very wrong.

he rushed down the stairs, and made to cross the room towards them when Singh stepped out in front of him and said sympathetically, "Allen, don't. He's your friend, you don't want to see it."

"I--what?" His head was reeling. Had something happened to Julian? Singh couldn't be talking about anyone else.

He told Barry patiently, "I've talked to the first responders, and it isn't pretty. It's best if you stay here, and you can see him when he's settled in the hospital."

"What happened?" He asked, and swallowing was suddenly very difficult.

"Barry..."

Singh didn't call him that unless something was wrong, and suddenly he couldn't breathe properly around the lump in his throat. "What happened?"

It felt like years before Singh told him.

  
*********

The atmosphere was different when Julian woke up. Carter had stayed out all night drinking with his friends, something that was against his therapists suggestion, and Julian had fallen asleep in their bed feeling heavy and exhausted from a jog around the block. Carter didn't let him do that when he was home; said he did it to make people look at him, and that made Carter jealous, but he felt liberated after coming home slick with sweat and not having to explain himself. Usually he had to sneak in a run before he went to work if he wanted to take one, and it felt nice not having to do it in the dark of the morning.

The relaxation that had lured him to sleep, however, was gone when he was stirred awake by a hand on his hip, reaching around him to loosen the drawstring on his pajama bottoms. They were Carters pants, and they always ran a bit too large on him, but Carter liked when Julian wore his clothes. When he got the knot undone and leaned his face close to Julians, he cold smell alcohol on his breath, and his stomach shrank into itself. He slipped his hand down and looped his fingers around Carters wrist, slowly prizing it away from his pants as he turned his face towards Carters and said, with his best impression of being exhausted despite that he had been startled wide awake, "Not now."

Carter grunted, and shook Julians hand off of him, replacing it on his waistband and telling Julian quietly, "Just go back to sleep, I'll be done in a minute."

His hand slid under the fabric of his pajamas, and cupped between Julians legs over his boxer shorts with a hand large enough it swallowed him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks, and, as he always did when Carter tried to be intimate with him, he felt a pinprick of embarrassment in his chest. Something about Carters overpowering frame always managed to make him feel small, and the fragile feeling that came along with it was not one that he liked, even as warmth pooled in his belly.

"I really don't feel up to it, I have to be up for work in an hour." He tried to slide Carters hand away again, but it tightened like iron around him, sharp and quick, with enough pressure it began to hurt, and Julian let go of his wrist quickly, his cheeks growing darker.

"You never feel up to it." Carter said gruffly, and slipped closer to Julian so that he could feel his hardness brush the back of his thighs. "I can get you into it, though."

"I mean it. I really don't--" Carters grip had marginally relaxed on Julians groin, but his thumb was circling the head of his penis, and he felt his breath catch. He couldn't tell if it was from arousal or fear, but he felt both warring in his veins as Carters other hand came up to trap Julian and squeeze his waist. He rolled Julian over with ease, his pajamas shifting down his legs as he was being maneuvered, as he felt his body paralyze with fear. Carter climbed onto him so that he was resting his full weight on Julians thighs, staring down between his hips with glassy, drunken eyes.

"If you didn't want this, you wouldn't be getting hard." He told Julian slowly, and shimmied down slowly so that he was seated on Julians calves, and could lean forward and hover his mouth above the slight bulge in Julians pants. As much as his body seemed to appreciate the movement, a hand still massaging his penis to life, his mind was practically screaming at him to do something, and to stop it from happening. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could picture Barry Allen warning him to leave, and for the millionth time he wished he had been brave enough to take the advice and walk out the door when he had the chance. He could have done it last night when Carter was out, but instead he was lying flat on his back as his boyfriend forced kisses between Julians hips, his breath tingling in a way that was almost pleasant as it ghosted over his boxers. He couldn't make himself speak, but his hand shot down when Carter began to peel the elastic of his underwear away from his skin, and his fist tightened in the fabric.

Carter paused, lifting his face to see what had stopped him moving the final barrier between his mouth and Julians genitals, and his eyes narrowed when he saw that Julian wasn't letting go. Julian didn't think he could; he gripped the waistband on instinct and his fist seemed unable to contract now that it had found its way around the shorts. Carter said sharply, "Let go of them."

His eyes were dark and shining. Julian hadn't seen him look like that in what felt like forever, but the light in them was so familiar that he felt pains he had tried to swallow burning under the surface of his skin. His grip tightened on the underwear but Carter only seemed more determined, telling him waspishly, "I like you better when you fight, anyways. At least you're not talking; that's always a mood killer. Spread your damn legs."

Julians heart was doing cartwheels in his chest, and he couldn't take his eyes off of carter as he released the elastic of the boxer shorts and worked the flap open instead, using both hands to rip it a little wider and expose Julian completely. even then, Julians fist was locked on the elastic waistband, useless and cramping, protecting nothing. Cold air met him, and he felt himself thankfully softening, and tried to focus on the unpleasantness of it. Carter had always been able to manipulate his bodies responses before, even during moments like this, when he felt so repulsed by the man it hurt. He always felt pathetic afterward, and tried to pour that feeling into every part of his body; let his own repulsion stop it from happening again.

It worked, for a moment, but then he was enveloped in warmth as Carter slipped him into his mouth with ease, his tongue applying just enough pressure that Julians toes tingled without his permission. Carter knew him too well; knew how to make his body respond, how to make him almost think he wanted it. He could never override all of the fear though, and Julian closed his eyes tightly as he felt his balls twitch at a swipe of Carters tongue. He wished he could stop himself enjoying it; would do anything to have enough strength to just push the larger man off of him, but he just lay prone beneath him, shaking and humiliated and achingly hard.

He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but every time he got close to a distraction he would remember what he was trying to distract himself from, and his heart would sink a little further in his chest, beating so hard he thought for sure it would burst. Carters fingers were gripping his hips so hard he could feel the exact places where bruises would form, and he imagined what Allen would say if he saw them. He would make Julian leave, and Julian didn't want that. He loved Carter, and he repeated that in his head until he could almost believe it, except for the fact that he didn't. He didn't, and he wanted Carter off of him so much it burned.

"Carter, stop." He said, tears filling his eyes without permission as Carter pulled off of him, and made to flip him onto his stomach. Julian ground his elbows into the bed and pushed himself down, refusing to be moved. "I want to stop."

he was surprised how firm his voice was, considering the tears on his cheeks, but Carter was unbothered, and tugged at him again. Julian pushed away harder, and repeated, shifting from humiliation to anger fluidly, "I don't want this. I want you to stop. Let me up."

"Just relax, it will be faster that way. I'm only going to--"

He made to twist Julian around again, but with a surge of defiance, Julians hands flew up and pushed Carter backwards with enough force Julian was able to pull his legs out from beneath the man and tug his pants back up over his hips. Carter was sprawled on the bed, drunk and dazed as he stared at Julian, but he didn't spare him more than a glance. He knotted the drawstrings on his pants as tight as he could manage to get it, and walked quickly out of the room and down the hall. He was nearly to the door when he felt himself thrown forward, and his head slammed into the doorknob. He was lying flat on the floor, Carters frame blurry above him, and his entire body tingling painfully from the fall. He could feel himself fading in and out of awareness as he was carried to the couch, and there was a faint taste of blood in his mouth, but all that he could focus on was the feel of Carters fingers working the knot apart on his pants.

"Carter, please," He said, though he fought to stay awake, "I don't want to."

He was either too quiet or too unloved for Carter to hear him, because he got no response, and he felt his eyes roll back into darkness as his pants and boxers were tugged off violently.

There were moments he would come back to reality during it, never quite unaware of what was happening. He could still feel it, and he knew vaguely that he needed to pull together and get up; fight him off and leave; but he couldn't find a grip on consciousness, and his thoughts faded as quickly as they filled his head.

He was only half awake when Carter left him, and Julian put everything he had into staying awake; focussing on leaving. He pulled himself off of the couch on legs that felt like jello, and numb fingers tugged his shorts and pants back onto his legs, which he hardly recognized under the grey of the bruises that stamped his thighs. He made a step towards the front door, and the room tilted sideways, he caught himself on the counter, on the half-wall that separated the dining room from the living room, and knocked a glass off in the process. The sound sent panic up his spine, and his head pulsed so hard and painfully that he was sure he was splintering apart just like the glass had.

The sound was enough to have carter hurrying back to the living room, and Julian never felt a fear as strong as when he met his boyfriends eyes. They were filled with concern, but Julian didn't believe it was genuine. He had fucked him into the couch while he fought to stay awake, and came running to protect him from a broken glass? He felt trapped. His lungs were a small room and the walls were closing in.

He pushed himself backwards, and his back hit the wall. One of his bruises brushed the doorknob, and he reached behind him, fumbling it until he got the door open. It was still dark outside, and it smelled like wet grass as Julian stepped backwards onto the balcony. He couldn't get enough distance between himself and Carter, who was coming closer to him, saying words he didn't understand or hear.

All he knew was that he was suffocating, and if he didn't get away he would never breathe right again. He didn't remember climbing onto the railing, or balancing himself on it, but he remembered the lurch in his stomach when he realized he was falling. One moment he was looking at Carter, begging him to get away; to please just go away, and the next he was flinching away from the hand that came to steady him. He was so used to those hands hurting him he forgot they could help, and he lost his balance. Their fingers touched, for a half moment, and then all he saw was Carters face getting smaller as he fell. He felt himself falling and he was almost relieved; That was all he wanted; a bit of distance to feel safe again.

  
*********

Julian looked like a stranger in the hospital bed. Maybe it was the lighting that made him look so grey, but Barry had trouble placing his coworkers face on the one he was looking at. His eyes were swollen and his skin looked yellow where it wasn't dark with bruising. Barry had a hard time looking at him.

They were giving him pain meds through an IV, and in his sleep his face would relax, the hard lines of a grimace flattening out slowly. Singh was pacing the room nightly with his husband, his beard untrimmed going on a week as he said, his hands raking through his hair, "He's practically a kid. He's one of our own, and I didn't see it. I always thought Carter was a good guy, you know? A little overbearing, sure, but I thought he was just nervous, and all this time--I never even considered he was abusive!"

"You can't blame yourself for this." His husband would tell him from the chair beside Julian bed, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, "You can't control everything, David, this isn't on you."

They would keep talking like that until it got late, and the nurse came in to tell them that the visiting hours had ended. Barry always stayed behind, and after the hall had emptied he would faze back into the room, pulling up the chair Singhs husband had vacated so he could watch Julians chest rise and fall slowly.

Things were silent for a moment as he sat, and Barry couldn't take his eyes off Julians face. He had fourteen stitches on his forehead. He must have been distracted counting over them, because he didn't notice Julians eyes slowly opening, or even realize he had woken up at all until he said hoarsely, "It's a nice illustration."

Barry startled, and for a moment he didn't understand what Julian meant, and then his eyes trailed down and he saw that Julian was looking at a little lightning bolt that Iris had doodled on his arm cast in honor of the flash. She had thought he would be amused to see it there when he woke up, telling Barry as she did it that he could use a reason to smile. Barry nodded, trying to think of what to say, but the words didn't come. What did one say in a situation like that? He wanted to ask him how he felt, although he was sure he knew the answer, and instead he just reached onto a side table and held up a stack of get-well cards so that Julian could see them without having to turn his head so much.

"I don't have that many friends. Who are they from?" Julian asked, and Barry thought he must be trying to make a joke, but he didn't laugh.

"The entire department." Barry told him, then added, feeling slightly embarrassed, "And some friends of mine."

He flipped through them quickly until he came to the one Eddie had left, and showed Julian the front of it, explaining quietly, so that none of the nurses patrolling the halls would hear him, "Eddie asked me to show you his card first; said you'd appreciate it."

It was in the shape of a cat, and the tail was tacked on so that it could move back and forth. His smile was small but genuine, and soon Barry was showing him each card, reading out loud the ones Julian asked him to. Sammy had sent a card with Barry the day after it happened with a drawing of herself and a bandaid, telling Julian she hoped he felt better. Barry had told her that a friend of his had gotten hurt, and she had insisted on making a card. Luckily, Julian thought it was sweet, and told him as much.

They got to the end of the cards, and Barry was left staring at his empty hands for a long moment, not sure what to do now that they had exhausted their only source of distraction. Julians eyes were scanning the room slowly, and Barry wondered faintly if he should fetch a nurse to tell them he'd woken up, but then they'd know he snuck back into the room, and he'd have to leave. So, they didn't say anything, both looking through the room and trying not to meet one another's eyes until Julian finally asked, "Allen...what are they saying at work?"

"They..." Barry trailed off. He hadn't set foot in the CCPD building since it happened, and the only conversation about it that he heard at all had been when officers were coming in and out of the room to check up on Julian or had gotten to gossiping about it in the waiting room. Barry knew the story, though; he used his speed to his advantage to sneak behind the nurses station and look through Julians records--he wasn't proud of it, but had done it on impulse the first day he had come to the hospital and nobody would tell him if Julian would survive or not. They wouldn't tell him anything at all, really, and it hit him like a punch when he read about the injuries Julian had recieved. Broken ribs, fractured hip, shattered wrist, a broken ankle, a concussion, and several cuts and scrapes. The doctors had tentatively suggested a sexual assault, but Julian hadn't been awake or coherent enough to confirm or deny it, and Carter had insisted that it was something they both wanted. He didn't know how to bring that up to Julian, who was staring at him, so he just settled for swallowing and feeding him a lie; "It hasn't gotten around very much. I think most people believe you fell."

"I did fall." Julian said, quietly, after a moment of silence as he traced the lightning bolt on his cast with his uninjured hand.

Barry snapped before he could help himself, "Stop protecting him. He pushed you off of a fucking balcony; when you hit the ground nobody knew if you were going to live or die. He doesn't deserve you sticking up for him! You said you would tell me if something happened; that you would leave him, and now look where we are! You lied to me, and you're in a hospital waking up for the first time in a week and you still want to protect him! You can't keep--"

He stopped abruptly when Julian flinched. What was he doing? Why was he yelling at him? Julian was the victim, why couldn't he remember that? He was thrown off a balcony, and Barry was yelling at him for being too scared and in love to leave the man that did it. All he wanted to tell him was that Julian deserved better; that nobody who cared about him would ever treat him how Carter did, and he was doing it all wrong. "Julian, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have--"

"You were right." Julian interrupted with a soft sniffle, and Barry felt his gut sour to realize he was trying to keep from crying, "I...I wanted him to get better--I wanted him to want to get better. I know that you look at him and you see this horrible guy that hits his boyfriend to get what he wants, and you think I'm trying to protect him from this, but he did not push me. I just...I felt like I was suffocating, and I just couldn't get far away enough from him. I just needed space, but he wouldn't let me have it and it was all too much and I...I got onto the balcony and I lost my balance. Carter has done some terrible things, I know that, but he didn't push me."

"Witnesses said they heard yelling from the apartment before you fell." Barry said, and his voice sounded very hollow as he said it. Something about seeing Julian so close to breaking down anchored him; reminded him that he had to stop letting his emotions cloud his actions. If he was angry it would show, and Julian didn't need that from him.

Julian swallowed and his eyes dropped to the blanket that was over his lower body, but Barry saw him move his legs under the fabric to draw his knees closer together. His face darkened, and he said with a hard swallow, no doubt irritated by the feeding tube that ran down his throat, "We had an argument."

There was something telling in his face, and Barry knew there was more to it than that, but Julian didn't raise his head again, and was staring with glassy eyes at hhis lap. Slowly, Barry crossed the room and went to the other side of the bed, slowly opening Julians fingers out of the fist he had created at his side so that he could clasp his hand tightly in his own. He wasn't sure if Julian even noticed, and he said slowly, keeping his voice deliberately soft, "If he..did something...to you...you know you can tell me, right?"

Julians eyes flickered towards Barrys for a half second, and then back to the blanket. Barry waited, and squeezed his hand gently to make sure he knew he wasn't alone. Julian glanced down at their linked fingers, and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, the door to his room opened and a heavyset nurse strode in, holding a syringe up to the light. She stopped when she saw them, and blinked slowly, then smiled warmly and said, "It's good you're up, Mister Albert. Your doctor thought it would be tonight or tomorrow before the pain meds started getting out of your system."

Julian didn't say anything, blinking rapidly so that she wouldn't notice his state of upset, and Barry chimed quickly to distract her, "He told me he was feeling a bit cold, do you think you could grab him an extra blanket? He's a bit high maintenance, it would really be appreciated."

She startled, and said quickly, "Yes, of course, dear, I'll be right back. The doctor will want to talk to you now that you're awake before i push any more meds, anyhow. I'll be right back, honey, just sit tight."

she was gone as quickly as she came, shoes squeaking on the linoleum, and Barry knew he had limited time to talk to Julian before she got back, but it seemed the moment was effectively ruined. "Julian..."

Shaken back into himself, Julians hand ripped away and he said sharply, turning his back on Barry, "Nothing happened. We fought, I went outside for some space, I sat up on the railing like an idiot, and then I fell. You shouldn't be here, Allen. Visiting hours are over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some things to add as far as Julians reaction in the hospital: He's kind of in a place where he is beginning to realize how bad the abuse was, but doesn't quite understand that he's been raped, or it hasn't fully hit him yet. He is teetering at the edge of telling Barry, but he has such a sense of personal pride that it is hard for him to consider letting someone else see that side of him, and he is angry at himself for coming so close to admitting it. He's having a bit of an internal war with himself; he's not being an ass, he's traumatized and doesn't know how to handle it. Barry is also not angry with Julian; he is angry with himself for not putting his foot down and saying that enough is enough when he wanted to. He is shouldering blame for what happened, and it comes out in ways he doesn't mean for it too, but he's not really blaming Julian. he wants to help like he's been able to help most everyone else, and not being able to do that is taking a toll on him. Just thought I'd give an explanation to some of their behaviors.


	8. A Break in Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit short, but Julian gets some clarity, and the reality of the situation finally settles in for Carter. 
> 
> Related: If you haven't read it, The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker is a great book for anyone that wants to learn more about how to spot an abuser, and how to trust your gut instinct when it comes to interacting with others. I highly recommend it, especially to young men and women who are venturing out into the world for the first time on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love.

 

 

The room felt much colder after Allen left, and Julian could still taste the almost-admission on his tongue, sour and ready to be spit out. He didn't, though. Things like abuse were easier to deny if he kept them unspoken. He knew Allen had lied to him when he said that not many people knew the story; Julian had been fading in and out of consciousness for the past several days, his mind lethargic but his ears collecting conversation like treasures. He tried to move his fingers once when a young officer came in to tell her that he was awake; that he could hear the clack of the glass vase she set on the table behind him, and that he knew who she was because he knew the scent of her perfume. She had bought him a coffee once, when he first signed on with the CCPD, and they had kept a tentative friendship up since then; never speaking, but nodding at one another when their paths crossed. It almost felt like a private joke between them. He had never heard her actual voice before until she bent over him on the first day to push his hair off his forehead, which had been nice, because he could feel it tickling his stitches.

She told him that she hoped he got well, and then she had left the room. There were a lot of visits like that, only the others kept their distance. He guessed he probably looked very different now that he was in the hospital and not in ironed slacks and a neat tie. Allen came by every day, and never said anything, except when he would play with the blinds and then tell him what the weather was like outside. Captain Singh brought his husband, and he paced at the end of the bed, his shoes creaking loudly enough that Julian could hear every step he took and tried to count them so he didn't have to hear what they were saying. It hurt to hear it; Singh would talk in a voice just above a whisper, barely restrained in his fury, and rage to the room about how it was his fault; that he should have been paying attention and have seen the signs.

It made him sick to his stomach that he felt guilty for Julian. Allen had warned him it would happen, and he hadn't listened. It was just...Carters bad days seemed so few, and there were so many good ones he hoped they would just continue; that a bad day would never come again. He had been doing the therapy, he was less angry, and he didn't raise his voice as much. He was sure it had been working. He thought they would be okay, and now he was sitting alone in a hospital bed, missing Allen more than his boyfriend. It almost felt like he was cheating, but carter hadn't come to see him at all, and he had heard Allen sneak in every night, had practically felt him watching him. Then he had had to wake up and get emotional, and ruin everything.

He felt a small sliver of pride at being able to keep his footing and keep the ugly truth of his abuse in the dark of his chest, but a bigger, more selfish part of him wished he had told Allen the truth. He wanted him to know what Carter did to him; wanted Allen to tell him that it would all be okay, and, for once, he wanted to believe it. Instead, he just felt small and alone, the inside of his thigh still tingling unpleasantly where finger marks had turned his skin grey. With his free hand, he pulled his blanket up closer to his chin, suddenly much too exposed. He wondered what would have happened, if he had told Allen the truth.

*********

Barry didn't go straight home after leaving the hospital. It was dark, and almost every light in every building had been turned out besides the flickering neon signs on a bar he passed, but he had the strange sense he should head for STAR labs.

It wasn't a far walk, and when he walked in, the lights were still on and he could hear voices further into the building. Cisco and Sammy were sitting on the floor across from one another, talking quietly as they played chess. When Barry walked in, casting a long shadow over the board, Sammy looked up towards him and smiled, and Cisco explained quietly, "She couldn't sleep, and her dad was already snoring, so I told her we could play a game."

Barry nodded, but he saw her eyes flick nervously between them, and she deliberately looked away as she slid a rook across the checkered tiles. Cisco frowned at her, noticing it as well, and Barry crouched down to be on their level when he asked her, "Why don't you want to go to sleep?"

"I dunno." She mumbled, and made to tuck her hair behind her ear, but realized half way through that it was gone and pretended she had only meant to scratch her shoulder.

Cisco studied her for a moment before turning towards Barry and explaining as casually as he could manage, "There is a bit of an issue with the nightmares, still. The necklace is holding up, and we haven't had a problem, but the nightmares are getting bad enough that she's scared to go to sleep."

"Oh." Barry said, understanding perfectly. After his mom died, he had trouble sleeping too; the images would replay a hundred times and he would wake up in a cold sweat whenever it happened. "Do you want to talk to us about what you're dreaming about? Maybe we could help you feel better."

"No." She said quietly, looking at the chess board again as Cisco made a move, "I don't like to talk about it."

"Are you sure? Sometimes it helps to have a friend you can talk to about this kind of stuff. If you're worried about--"

"Is your friend going to be okay?" She asked sharply, cutting him off effectively. Clearly, she didn't feel quite up to talking about it.

Barrys chest tightened at the thought of Julian, and he pushed it aside to assure her, "He woke up today. He didn't talk a lot because he's still really sore, but I showed him the card you made, and he said it was his favorite he's ever gotten."

"I'm a good artist." She shrugged, defensive, then softened to ask him, "Does he have lots of visitors?"

"He has a few." Barry said slowly, trying to detect where the conversation was headed. It seemed an odd turn to take.

"Mom didn't have a lot. Just me and dad. I think it made her sad."

"Oh. Your mom...where is she now?" Cisco asked carefully, and Barry watched her face closely for a reaction.

"Gone." She said, and then stood quickly off of the floor, telling them hurriedly, "I'm going to read for a little bit."

They let her go, and Barry waited until he was sure she wouldn't hear before he told Cisco, "He woke up a little bit ago. I think the report was right; I don't think anything Carter did to him was consensual. I asked him about it, or, I tried to, and he was so close to telling me when a nurse came in, and he shut down again."

"Barry, you can't bombard him like that. The dude just woke up and you're trying to make him relive the assault that put him in the hospital in the first place? He fell off a balcony because--"

"He was pushed, you mean."

"Barry, okay, none of the witnesses said he was pushed. Every single one said he fell or jumped; the consensus is that he was having a panic attack of some sort, and he managed to fall over the edge. I know this Carter dude is a massive dick, but Julian fell, and thats the truth of it. Regardless, it's insensitive to try and ask him about that stuff, especially since you looked at his records without his consent. He doesn't know you know all this stuff, and springing it on him is only going to make him feel worse."

"But I--"

"No. You can visit him, and you can be his friend, and try to talk him out of going back to the ass that hurt him, but you don't get to ask him to relive his trauma for your sake. Let him know you'll be there to listen when and if he's ready, and If he wants to, then he'll come to you about it. Pushing him will only make him retreat further. Trust me on this, Barry."

"He was about to tell me."

"Because you prompted him to. He didn't get a chance to even consider whether he wanted you to know about it; I'll remind you that you read his medical records and already know more than he wants you to. If he wants you to know these things, he will tell you, but take the knowledge you have and just focus on being his friend for now; he has to be comfortable with you before he tells you anything that personal."

Cisco was right, and Barry knew it, but it was hard to put down. He just wanted Julian to get better, and to make sure he was okay and getting the support he needed, but Julian always seemed to have one foot out the door when it came to taking care of himself properly, and Barry didn't know how to fix it.

*********

He was getting used to seeing Allen every day at three o'clock. He was still stuck in the hospital for observation, and normally he would be angry with being stuck in bed all day, but his body felt so heavy and achy that he found himself relieved he didn't have to go back to work yet. It was a very new feeling.

Carter hadn't come to see him at all, or even texted to check up on him, and Julian wondered if he had ever felt so lonely. There was Allen, of course, but seeing him walk into the room each day with a smile only made something sink in Julians chest; something embarrassed and shameful and biting, and he could hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Carter sneering at him, "It's only pity. He is only here because he feels bad for you. You're not his friend."

It was hard to shut that out, but he managed it most times. The real embarrassment hit him when Singh came to see him, offering earnestly, "You can always stay at our place if you need somewhere to go. We can clean up the guest room and..."

Julian hadn't listened to to the rest. He hadn't really thought about where he would go when he got out of the hospital. The apartment was technically under his name, so he could always go back there, but what if Carter was there when he arrived? What if he said he was sorry, and promised to make it up to him, and Julian believed him? He didn't think he would, but the possibility of it scared him. Would he be too scared to say no if Carter wanted him back?

Singh must have realized he wasn't listening, and that his head was reeling, because he stopped talking at some point and patted Julians arm in a silent goodbye before he let himself and his husband out of the room. He couldn't live with his boss, it would be too weird. He had too much pride to do that, and he wanted to go home anyways. The problem was, he didn't know if he could call it that anymore. Every time he fell asleep he imagined calloused fingers sneaking up his legs, and he woke with a desperate desire to burn the couch he had been taken on. It was the first piece of furniture he and Carter had bought when they moved into the apartment, he remembered with a knot in his chest.

What was he going to do? He didn't even know who he was without Carter by his side.

*********

"Who is that?" Julian asked, staring skeptically past Barrys shoulder at Caitlin, who hovered nervously in the doorway under his gaze. His arm that wasn't fasted was holding a spoonful of jello over a hospital tray, and was wobbling dangerously in his distraction.

Barry knew he had promised Cisco he would stop trying to meddle, but every day seeing Julian sink further and further into himself made him feel so useless it almost burned him. And, technically, Caitlin was meddling, not Barry. He just brought her along.

"She's a friend of mine." Barry finally said, and felt her move around him, nudging his shoulder as she past, a hand extended towards Julian, who had set the spoon down and was still staring at them cautiously.

He shook her hand tentatively, as if he didn't trust her, and she said calmly, keeping her voice low, "Julian, my name is Caitlin Snow, I work at STAR labs. I know you've been really quiet about what happened, and you don't want to talk about it with any of the nurses here or with your coworkers, but we thought, since I'm neither of those things, you wouldn't mind talking to me?"

"Why would I want to talk to you? There's nothing to say. Everybody knows what happened, I've heard them all gossiping out in the hall about me." Julian said roughly back to her, though there was an uncertainty warring in his eyes, and Barry knew he was afraid to speak to her like that. He had seen the way Carter would react when Julian spoke out, and was unsurprised Julian felt so nervous, but it still pricked at his heart like a thumbtack, small but painful.

Caitlin studied him before she asked plainly, "You're saying everyone knows what happened; are you implying that what they are saying is true; that your boyfriend raped you?"

Barry flinched at the same time Julian did. It was one thing to see it printed on paper, and as a guess at best, but another to state it out loud, like it was a fact, and like it wasn't the kind with the power to cut someone open. Julian looked like the word itself had seared through his chest. Julians eyes didn't leave Caitlin's, and his arms came up to cross over his chest slowly, awkward because of the cast. It seemed like ages before he nodded, slowly. Once he did, his eyes practically flooded with tears, and his calm facade was wiped clean off. Barry let go of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Julian," Caitlin said gently, and her hand hovered over his knee, covered by the blanket, until he nodded again and she lowered it completely, "Anything you say to me will stay between us. Has anybody here talked to you about the Cycle of Abuse?"

Julian shook his head, and Caitlin smiled grimly before turning her papers around and laying them on the tray in front of him to read, pointing at something Barry couldn't see and speaking quietly to him. It was small progress, and it didn't tell them anything they didn't already know, but Julian had admitted to what had happened instead of trying to deny it, and somehow that felt monumental. Barry let himself out of the room without saying goodbye, knowing better than to interrupt them. If Julian felt comfortable talking to Caitlin, then he would let him do it privately. At least there was someone he could confide in, now, even if it wasn't Barry. He was surprised when that didn't sting. He was just glad Julian was willing to listen to her. Now, he had someone else to go see.

*********

Carter wasn't being held at the police station anymore. He had gone back to the apartment after Julian refused to press charges, and Barry had been avoiding that block just to avoid the overpowering temptation to knock on the door and sock the man in the face when he answered. The urge was too strong to ignore now that he had seen Julians face crumple when admitting to Caitlin what had transpired between them.

He ran into him in the hall, just as he stepped off the elevator. It was only the shock that kept him from knocking the mans teeth into his throat--and that he barely recognized him. His hair was greasy and unbrushed, his eyes red and swollen, and his breath stank of whiskey. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a month. He was nothing of the charismatic man Barry had met before, and perhaps that was why he stopped to wait for what he would say before he moved to punch him.

Carter hadn't forgotten him, clearly. His eyes lit with recognition, and he stumbled back a step before he steadied himself, and said hoarsely, "You don't have to say anything to me. I'm leaving."

"No, I do have something I have to say to you." Barry snapped, "Julian is--"

"Whatever you're about to say, you're right." Carter interrupted. He gave a shaky, watery laugh, raked his hands through his hair, and said, "My god, you were right the whole time. I never should have let it get this far; I should have gotten help the first time I ever hit him--before then, even. It's my fault he's in the hospital. I didn't push him off the balcony, but I may as well have. It was my fault. All of it. I saw the look in his face when he went out there; he was scared of me. I've seen him look like that before, but it felt so real then. He told me to stay away from him, and I didn't listen, and he fell."

Barry didn't care how miserable he felt. He didn't care how guilty or disgusted with himself he felt. He cared about Julian; Julian, who was lying in the hospital with broken bones feeling humiliated that everyone he knew had found out about the abuse. Carter didn't get to be embarrassed; he wasn't the one who had been sexually assaulted; he wasn't the one that had to go back to work to hear everyone whisper about it. He got to go on with his life, and forget about any pain he caused. Julian was stuck reliving it. He couldn't let that go as easily as Carter could.

Carters voice broke, and he hitched on a sob, "I'm sorry. I thought I was trying to love him, but that wasn't what I was doing at all. I thought, when he woke up, he would get into it; when he realized I was fucking him he would go along with it like normal. But he didn't wake up till after, and he was so damn terrified and I--I saw how bad I had gotten. I never thought of it as rape; I always thought if we loved each other it was just sex, no matter how you did it. But it's not. The things I said to him--the things I've made him do--If you think it will mean anything to him, please tell him I'm sorry. I never wanted to be this man; I never realized the truth of who I was until I saw his body on the concrete. You don't understand how sorry I am that--"

It wasn't enough. He didn't realize? How could he not realize what he was doing to Julian? Sorry would never be enough to repair what he had destroyed. It didn't make things any better. A bandaid had more of an effect than any apology Carter had to offer, and Barry rolled that thought over like a stone in his mind as he went back home, knuckles burning from where he had punched Carter across his sticky, unwashed cheek. He hoped he hit him hard enough that it ached all the way to London and then after, too. He hoped every time he walked into his new therapists office, he felt a twinge where Barry had hit him, and was reminded that as much as that had hurt, it would never be anything in comparison to what pain he had left Julian in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget; when I get comments it tricks me into writing more. Just food for thought, there.


	9. The Return Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian comes out of his shell a bit, meets some new people, and then returns to the apartment, but is he as ready as he's made everyone believe he is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, it will help me survive school starting up again

  
There was something kind about her. Something trustworthy. There was the same warmth in her eyes that Julian had seen in Barrys, familiar in the comfort it brought him. Maybe that was why he told her. She didn't make him go into detail about what happened, and he was glad for it; it was one of the things he was afraid of doing. She talked more than he did; she had brought a little envelope with handouts about domestic violence, and pointed out statistics when he got quiet and nervous.

He knew most of them; had seen so many people coming in and out of the CCPD that were abused or abusers. He thought he knew the type pretty well, that what Carter did to him wasn't quite as bad as what happened between those other couples. But none of them had fallen off a balcony trying to escape their own partners, had they? He felt so stupid, lost in his own world, closing his eyes to what Carter did in some vague hope that he would morph into a better man if Julian kept to himself. He had to know it would never work; Carter was too quick to anger, and loving him was never going to be enough for that to stop being true.

Caitlin stayed even after they finished their chat. She was sitting on the bed by his foot, and taking in his face. He hadn't looked in a mirror since he had gotten to the hospital, and suddenly wondered how bad he looked. He didn't ask her, though. Instead, he saw her glance at his cast, and he held his arm out for her to see it better, nodding towards the lightning bolt and explaining, "A friend drew it."

"I wondered about that." She said, with a soft smile, "Iris West?"

Julian had forgotten this was Barrys friend, and hadn't considered she would know the same people he did. The fear of what she could tell them sat like a block of ice in his throat. She read it in his face, and reminded him, "This stays between us, remember? It's not anyone's business what happened to you unless you elect to tell them. My lips are sealed."

Relieved, and wanting to believe her, Julian nodded. He felt pinned by her gaze, like she wanted him to say something, so he blurted, "I get out in two days. The doctors thought I might have damage to my spine from the fall, but they've been monitoring me, and they said I got lucky. Lucky to fall off a balcony, can you imagine that?"

"You know what they meant." Caitlin said softly, smiling just slightly, and asked, "You know, I brought a marker with me, if you want to add some designs to your cast? It will be like a tattoo sleeve, almost."

Julian couldn't help smiling, and said with a weak laugh, "Do your worst, Miss Snow."

He watched her draw in silence until a nurse ducked her head in to warn that visiting hours were ending. She capped her marker, told him she would check up on him later, and left him in the dark of the lonely hospital room again. He had almost forgotten, in her company, that he would still be stuck by himself when the streetlights came on outside. He made to move the tray onto a side table so that he could sleep, but stopped when he saw something written on the paperwork she had left for him. It was the name of an app, and she had detailed little instructions on how to set it up in small black letters. An alert for the Flash. It seemed Julian couldn't quite get the masked man out of his life, after all. He fished for his cell phone, which Singh had brought for him days ago, and followed her instructions carefully. He stared at the glowing yellow lightning bolt until his eyes hurt once he had it downloaded, and when he finally fell asleep he felt just a little safer than he had the night before.

*********

The city was quiet, and Barry wondered how Julians talk with Caitlin had gone as he stared up at the ceiling, tracing his sore knuckles. They had healed hours ago, but Barry still felt a tingle of satisfaction when he ran his thumb over them. Carter had gotten what was coming to him, but it still felt like he hadn't done enough. What was one punch compared to years of abuse?

He didn't even know if Julian would want him stepping in like that. He wondered if Julian had downloaded the app he told Caitlin to mention. Cisco had stayed up late adding features to their metahuman alert app, so that anyone in the city that downloaded it would have access to a panic button. Caitlin had said it was a bad idea; that despite the fact it would help people, there would still be those that took advantage of it to meet the flash, or metahumans that would use it to lure him into a trap. If it had the possibility of making Julian feel safer, though, he was willing to take the risk, and slept easier knowing that Julian could reach him if he needed to.

 

He woke to his phone buzzing at six in the morning, and nearly bolted out of bed, panicking that Julian needed him at the hospital. It wasn't the app, though, just a text message. Sammy had gotten hold of Ciscos phone, and texted him, 'Can I go with you to see your friend today?'

She had been asking for a while, jumping at any chance to leave STAR labs. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep her holed up there for long, and smiled to himself as he pulled on a tee shirt and jeans and dashed out the door. Julian could probably do with more company, seeing as he had taken to Caitlin so quickly.   
  
*********

Julian liked the little girl Barry had brought along with him. He was allowed to walk around the hospital now with his IV pole, and had complained enough that they finally let him wear real clothes instead of the backless hospital gown that made him feel uncomfortable and exposed. Singh and his husband had gotten them from his apartment when they overheard him talking (well, arguing) to a nurse about it, and as much as his mind told him he should feel embarrassed they had had to do that for him, he couldn't help the spark of relief in his gut that he was wearing comfortable clothes for the first time in what seemed forever.

When she got there, little Sammy was the first person to notice the cat-patterned pajama bottoms he was sporting, and her approval made him feel ridiculously proud, even if Barry did snicker from his place pretending to look out the window.

"I always wanted a cat." Sammy chattered, sitting across from him on the bed, using a tray to brace her paper as she painted distractedly, "Dad said we can't, though."

Julian was painting too, trying to capture her likeness as best he could using his non-dominant hand. The cast on his good one was really starting to get on his nerves. He told her with a shrug, "I want a cat, too. Don't know what I'd name it, though."

"Sam is a good name." Sammy said without looking up, but he could still see the little smile on her face.

"It is, isn't it?" He agreed, and before he realized what he was saying, he told her, "My boyfriend says I'm not very good at naming things."

Immediately he froze, but Sammy didn't notice. Barry did, but before he could say anything, Sammy frowned and asked, "Why would Barry say that? He said your other cat was named Mulligan, and I think that's a pretty cool name."

"I--I'm not dating Julian. He didn't mean me, he meant--"

"I thought you were boyfriends? Dad said you talk about him too much not to like him."

"Of course I--of course I like him, just not like that. We're...." Well, that stumped him. What were they, now? Certainly more than coworkers. But was friends too much?

"We have a history." Julian said loudly, stopping his thoughts before they could wander too far.

"If that's what you want to call it." Sammy muttered, but neither said anything about it. Barry felt too hot suddenly, and Julian was blushing darker than Barry had seen him do before. Perhaps the dating talk wasn't something he was ready for, considering he still called Carter his boyfriend on habit. Luckily, Sammy didn't let the silence stretch for long, and asked Julian, "Do you have to get stuck with needles a lot while you're here?"

"Hardly ever." Julian told her, and looked back to his paper. He was out of practice, and it was obvious, even if he wasn't using his dominant hand.

"When do you get to go home?"

"Tomorrow, if I'm lucky." Julian said, and Barry wondered when he planned on mentioning that to him.

Barry glanced at him, and offered, trying to look disinterested, "Do you know where you're going after this? It might be hard to go back to the apartment and--"

"I can handle it. It's home; I wouldn't go anywhere else." Julian said, sharp and quick, as if Barry had wounded him with the question. Maybe he had.

"I just meant--"

"Finished." Sammy said, and put her brush down so that she could hold up a watercolor portrait of Julian. It was a rough rendering of him; like someone that had never seen Julian was a given vague features and then asked to draw him based on that. Or maybe she just hadn't drawn the version of Julian that Barry knew; she had painted the one of him in a hospital bed, the one that felt too raw to touch in Barrys mind.

"Me too." Julian told her with a weak smile, forcing himself to look away from Barry, and they traded papers quickly. They were quiet for several seconds, and Barry finally felt so awkward he left the window and rounded the hospital bed, looking over Sammys shoulder at the portrait Julian had painted of her.

"You really captured my dark, brooding look here." Julian told her with a smile, his chest filled with a fuzzy warmth as he stared at the painting. He had always wondered what he looked like through someone elses eyes, and to see that she had painted a small smile onto his face made a real one form without his permission.

"You made me look pretty." Sammy said breathlessly in return, clutching the painting with hands that shook. Barry couldn't take his eyes off of it. There was something simple about it; easy and unsure, but flooded with truth. Sammy looked radiant, with pink cheeks, and bright, lively eyes. Barry had never known Julian could paint.

Julian looked up at her with a frown, and said gently, in a tone Barry had never heard him take, "Well, I only painted what I saw. You're a lovely girl, Sam."

"I'm not." She said, though she didn't sound sad about it, "I'm odd looking. My ears stick out too much, and I don't have any hair to cover them anymore. I'm not ugly, I guess, but I'm not pretty either. I'm probably average."

"There are worse things a girl can be." Julian said kindly, "The world has probably given you every opportunity to be mean and nasty, and you've taken your experiences and decided that they won't make you into anything you're not. I know people that didn't make that same decision, and I'll tell you, you're a right sight better than all of them." He glanced at Barry, "You and Allen both."

*********

"Are we going to visit him again when he goes home?" Sammy asked as Barry led her across the street, holding her small hand in his. She was still holding the painting Julian had made her in the other hand.

"If he wants us to." Barry said, although he wondered the same thing. He wasn't quite sure where he stood with Julian, and every time he thought he found his footing, he stumbled again into uncertainty. He had never objected to Barry visiting him in the hospital, but he hadn't been particularly happy to see him, either. Besides, showing up at his home was another thing entirely.

"I hope he does." Sam chattered, and let go of his hand to run a little ways ahead of him towards the entrance to STAR labs. Barry could see her father waiting for them by the front door, smiling fondly at the girl. "He's really nice."

"Something like that." Barry agreed, smiling privately to himself. He wasn't sure he would use the same word. He was prickly and moody, most days, and incredibly defensive, but today had shown a new side of him. Maybe he would be able to find it again, or maybe something in between the sides of Julian that he now knew.

*********

He couldn't go inside. He thought he could, had felt so sure of himself when he slotted the key into the lock and pushed the door open, but now he was certain he had made a mistake. He had forgotten how dark the walls looked when the curtains in the living room were drawn. He wanted to go into the room and open them, but he couldn't make himself go near the couch in order to get to them. He couldn't even step over the threshold.

It seemed like hours before Julian moved into the apartment, and even then it was only because a neighbor had come from there apartment into the hallway, and he was startled into moving. He knew what came with company; the questions he didn't want to answer, the well-wishes that came in such a quantity they threatened to bury him alive, and sometimes cards with condolences printed onto the inside with cheesy poems to make his reality easier to swallow.

It was cold inside. Carter had turned off the heater, and a chill had crept into the room from their bedroom, which was always freezing, no matter the season. He went into the living room and turned twice around. He expected everything would be in the same place he had left it before the fall, but nothing at all looked how he imagined it would. Someone had cleaned the dishes that had been left in the sink, had washed and folded the blanket on the couch, and had cleaned all of the glass off the floor--maybe vacuumed, too. It couldn't have been Carter; when he did the dishes he put the clean ones neatly on the counter instead of in the cupboard they belonged in. It was one of the things they often fought about. He didn't think Carter would be worried about dishes, anyways; he had been busy at the police station, and then off to London. He hadn't even bothered with a text message to see if he was alright.

Julian solved the mystery a few minutes after retreating into his kitchen and opening the refigerator. He wasn't hungry, but he needed something that would distract him from thinking about the reason the room was starting to suffocate him. There were pre-made meals stacked and labelled on the shelves inside, and a little note taped to the top of the first stack that told him that Singh and his husband had cleaned up for him when they had fetched his clothes for him and prepared a few meals so he wasn't stumbling through cooking with a cast, and, once again, all he could feel was relief.

Another part of him, though, dark and sinister, and whispering in the very back of his mind, wondered if they could see what had happened on the couch; if they could somehow tell he had been raped there. Even thinking the word, so small and vile, made the memory flash, like hundred of moving pictures, back into view in his mind. The problem was that he didn't remember the rape itself; he didn't know exactly what had been done to him, and probably never would, and all he could do was imagine it. He could feel the bruises on his thighs, and if he thought hard enough he could feel the exact way Carter had held him, his hand warm and hard and gripping tight. He shut the fridge with a quiet slam. He couldn't eat to the soundtrack of his thoughts.

God, it was so quiet in the apartment. He had never noticed that it could feel so empty. How was he meant to do this on his own? He wasn't even comfortable enough to speak out loud in the room, like there was a hand gripping his vocal chords. He didn't even know how to leave the kitchen. But he told everyone he would be fine; that it wasn't such a big deal to come back. He wasn't going to come out looking like Carter had spooked him from his own home, but now, he wondered if it had ever been His home to begin with?

*********

He was getting more comfortable the more he walked through the apartment, trying to familiarize himself with the feeling of living alone. It was slow at first, and every step took ages to complete, but he was making progress, even though he still hadn't gone within ten feet of the couch.

The bed was off-limits, too. And most of the bedroom. He had gone in, seen the bed, remembered what had happened to him there, and then other things he hadn't counted as abuse till days ago, and he had to step out and close the door to keep from reliving it all. The trouble, with the couch and his bed not belonging to him anymore, and instead being the property of the bad memories he made on them, was that it left him with nowhere to sleep. By midnight, he'd pulled blankets from the linen closet and piled them on the floor in the hallway as a makeshift bed. He felt stupid for doing it, but, more importantly, he felt safe.   
  
It was not a feeling that lasted long. He woke at three AM with a twinge in his bladder--an unpleasant effect from all the IV fluids the hospital had pumped through him--and got up to use the bathroom, but when he was washing his hands there was a crack from inside the apartment. He froze, water still running, and listened hard. He couldn't move. There was only silence around him, and he slowly turned off the water, listening harder. There was nothing, and then a crackle, like glass being crunched underfoot, and his heart hammered in his chest with the force of a jackhammer.

Was Carter out there? Allen said he had gone to London, but had he followed through? Nobody told him whether he had actually gotten on the plane. What if Carter changed his mind? What if he had come back to the apartment while Julian slept on the floor, tortured just by the thought of the man he once believed he loved?

He didn't think, and pulled his phone out on instinct, letting his fingers take over as his lungs shook beneath his ribs. He couldn't see what he was doing, his vision was so blurred, but he knew he had to do something--anything.

*********

Barrys heartbeat was thrumming through his entire body as he phased through the door and into Julians apartment, having run to get there faster than he had ever run before. He knew he should have made sure Carter left; made absolutely certain he was really gone before he told Julian that he was.

There were blankets piled against the wall in the thin hallway, and Barrys first thought was that they had been thrown from the bedroom as ammunition against an intruder, but the lights were all off but for the one shining to his right, and when he phased through the locked door, he came to a halt in a bathroom. It was small, with two toothbrushes on the counter and water spots on the mirror. More importantly, however; Julian was there, on the floor wedged into the corner made by the side of the bathtub and the wall, and he was breathing heavily into his hand, blue eyes wide and afraid. Barry didn't get a chance to speak when Julian said, with a voice that cracked, "He's here--I heard him moving, he's in here. Please make him leave, he's not supposed to be here. He-he's supposed to be gone."

"I'll take care of it." Barry promised, and forgot to disguise his voice when he said it, but he knew Julian didn't notice anyways.

He made three laps through the apartment, checking behind every door and under every bit of furniture to be safe. He went through the entire building when his search came up empty. Carter wasn't anywhere near the apartment, and Barry told Julian that slowly and carefully, watching his face as he did.

He wasn't believed, and Julian shook his head rapidly, saying through tears, "I heard him. I heard his footsteps, I know he's out there. Please, Flash, he has to be there, I know what I heard. He's--"

He stopped immediately at the start of a mechanical whir just down the hall, his eyes growing larger, now both hands covering his mouth, as if to muffle the sound of his breathing. Barry listened closely, wondering if he'd missed something in his search, despite being so thorough, and then heard the quiet clatter of the ice machine in Julians fridge--the kind that sounded exactly like it might be footsteps--and his heart sunk into his belly, too heavy to hold comfortably in his chest.

"Julian..." He said slowly, as the mans eyes slid up to meet his, "That isn't a person. It's your refrigerator, your ice machine just kicked on."

Realization came slowly, and, when it did, Julians face crumpled with a devastation he had only seen in him when he had found out Mulligan had died, only, now it seemed worse somehow as he bent his head and sobbed into his hands, breath hitching, "God, I'm so stupid. Afraid of a fucking refrigerator."

Barry couldn't just watch; Julian looked so small curled up on the floor like he was, and watching his thin frame shake with tears only made his chest ache with the need to hold him close. He didn't, though, and instead lowered himself slowly to the floor. Julian didn't know the Flash, and Barry didn't know if he would be okay with anyone touching him, whatever the intentions, so he said instead, slowly, "You're not stupid for being afraid. What you've been through--you never should have been sent here after what happened."

"Where do you suggest I go?" Julian asked, waspish despite the broken edge in his voice.

"I heard from Barry that captain Singh offered--"

"I'm not spending the night t my fucking bosses house because I'm scared of my refrigerator."

"You're not scared of your refrigerator; you're scared of your ex coming back to hurt you again. I know it's not my business, but you were afraid enough that you pressed the panic button, and I don't think you should be alone tonight. There is nothing wring with asking for help, and your friends would be more than willing to take you in and help you get back to feeling safe."

"What friends?" Julian asked, waspish and sharp, wet eyes narrowed as he glared at the Flash through damp eyelashes. Barry was silent, waiting for him to fill it in for himself, and finally, Julian looked away from him, pink rising in his cheeks as he asked, "You mean Allen, don't you?"

Barry nodded, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He had hoped Julian would think of him first. Julian glanced at him, then looked away again, wiping at his cheek with the back of his hand and saying under his breath, like he hoped Barry wouldn't hear him, "I don't want him to know. If he knew...it wouldn't be the same again."

"Hey," Barry said, and he wasn't sure if he was speaking as himself or as the Flash anymore, "Barry knows you're struggling. He knows what you've been through, and he doesn't think any less of you because of this."

"You don't know that."

"Trust me, Julian, I do."

"You don't have any idea what you're talking about." He said, like the words were bitter and he had to spit them out quickly, "I have military training, and this still happened to me. I was fucked into my couch in my own home, and everyone knows about it now because I was too stupid to get out of the relationship before it got bad. I practically threw myself off of a balcony because I was scared of my own bloody boyfriend. Do you have any idea how it feels for everyone to know that about you? My boss knows, my coworkers know--even my parents know, and they're in another country! Allen is the only one that warned me beforehand that this would happen; that told me to get out while I could, and now I have to face him knowing he was right the whole time, and I was just naive enough to think love would win out. You don't know what this is like; if I go to him now he'll just think I'm weak and stupid--and I am so tired of feeling that way. I just want him to see me the way he did before he found out about all this."

"You're not weak because of this. No, look at me, and listen to what I'm telling you. I--Barry doesn't care about who was right or wrong, that's never what it was about. He was worried about you, and he still is. Julian, he is your friend, and the only thing he wants right now is for you to feel safe. He doesn't see you any different than he always has. Call him. I promise you, he will answer on the first ring, and he will be here to pick you up as soon as he can. All he wants to do is make sure you're okay. Please let him."

"I..." Julian trailed off, sniffling, then took a moment to compose himself, and said with a hard swallow, "Thank you, Flash. I think I will, just...don't mention any of this to him, please."

"You have my word." Barry said, before giving him a soft farewell and rushing out the door, trying to make it to STAR labs to answer his cell phone the moment it rang in case Julian called immediately. He wished he could tell him the truth; that he was the Flash, but his trust had been betrayed enough already, and he knew if he told him now he may never seek the help he needed. He really hoped just being himself was going to be enough to keep Julians fear away for the night. He hoped he could prove to him that he wasn't weak for what happened, or for feeling how he did in the aftermath.

Julian, sitting alone on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, staring at his phone, privately hoped the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting a new little short fic for Allenbert as well if anyone is interested, and should be up by next weekend along with another chapter in this story. I have surgery on the 31st to get my hearing aid, so if I take a bit longer to update, that's why. But comments definitely encourage me to write faster. ;)


End file.
